


Hollow Edge

by surrealsunday



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication, Sexual Tension, as always, prince AU, so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 256,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrealsunday/pseuds/surrealsunday
Summary: Eliott is a Prince. The Crown Prince of France to be exact. A Royal. And Lucas is decidedly not. Not a Prince. And not at all impressed by the institution as a whole. No one should rule with that kind of wealth when there are children homeless in the street, when there are people begging for their every meal. Lucas has always felt as much. Which is why it’s terribly inconvenient when he’s offered a job at the Royal Palace and circumstances mean he has to take it. It’s even less convenient that the Prince is so nice. So nice and… mildly attractive. Mildly. He’s also a mess. A flirty, sheltered, privileged mess. It’s a good thing Lucas has things so under control.*Weekly Updates*
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 912
Kudos: 1225





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! Those of you who were with me for Tempo know how I roll. For any newbies – this fic is complete. I’m in the final editing stages and post chapters as I edit. This means regular (at least 1 chapt weekly) updates guaranteed. And yes I realize anyone new will not believe that… I feel you… you’ve been burned before. But you’ll see soon enough. Strap in and enjoy mf’s (*in a nice way I love you)!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and chapter heading graphics are courtesy of Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr) because she is wonderful and talented and I have no talent in that arena. Thank you Aly!

The first time Lucas sees him, the idiot’s about to be swindled by a street vendor and pick-pocket-Polly (not to be confused with pick-pocket-Patty) has taken off with his wallet. Well… maybe it’s not the first time Lucas sees him, but it might as well be. Who in their right mind would pay that much for street meat anyways? Who doesn’t keep a close eye on their wallet in this part of the city?! Lucas has no other choice but to rescue him. He can’t stand to watch this pitiful scene any longer.

The young man reaches into his back pocket and begins patting for his now non-existent wallet. Ok, maybe Lucas can stand to watch just a little bit longer. He smirks to himself as he watches the street vendor, Philip become increasingly agitated as the young man begins fumbling excuses for his lack of money. He’s already taken a bite of the baguette sandwich. Lucas chuckles. He’s the most pitiful creature Lucas has ever seen.

It seems the young man has suggested he leave and come back with money – god he’s truly hopeless – and Philip has responded by grabbing his slender wrist in his big calloused hands, getting louder with anger. The baguette falls to the ground and the young man makes a sound of pain. Well, that’s enough of that, Lucas thinks and swings down from his shadowed perch on the awning above.

He lands on his feet with a resounding thump next to the young man, squaring off nicely with Philip’s ugly mug. God he’s always wanted to make an entrance like that. Philip hides his surprise well, only jumping slightly before rounding on Lucas with a sneer. The young man however reacts in a far more satisfying fashion. He startles like a Victorian lady in a particularly sexist period piece, wrenching his wrist out of Philip’s grasp in the process and gasping audibly with a “Good heavens!” thrown in for good measure. Lucas is hard pressed not to laugh.

“Having fun, Phily?” He grins obnoxiously – Philip’s never been one to resist a good bait and hook.

Philip’s face turns a starting shade of red almost instantaneously and when he speaks it’s with spit accompanying each syllable. “It’s _Philip_. Which you good well know, you filthy little street beggar.” Lucas bristles. He’s never once begged for anything. Not _once_. “And this doesn’t concern you. Stay out of it.” Philip turns his attention back to the young man and Lucas is more than done with his shit now.

“You think it doesn’t concern me when you’re charging ten times what your shitty excuse for meat actually costs?” Lucas keeps voice casual, but the promise of violence runs like steal beneath it.

“My meat is quality – ”

“And threatening violence, Phily?” Lucas cuts him off. “Really? You know how I feel about that.”

Philip blusters for a moment, puffing his chest like some sort of animal in the wild desperate to assert its dominance. Lucas has never had much tolerance for such posturing. “He wasn’t gonna pay!” Philip gestures with a violent cut of his hand towards the young man.

The young man speaks, voice soft and tentative. “I’m sorry. I will. I’ve simply misplaced my wallet. But I have every intention of paying.” Lucas can feel his eyes on the side of his head but keeps his own on Philip. “I never meant to cause any trouble. I can pay, I promise.”

“Yeah, fat lotta good your promise does me, kid,” Philip snarls before turning his attention back to Lucas. “And he’s not one of your kids anyway.” He flaps a hand towards the young man, gesturing at the clothes he wears. “Look at ‘im. He’s rich, isn’t he! He can afford it.”

Lucas sees the young man pull his coat more tightly around himself, adjusting the hood he’s pulled over his head to shroud his face even further – as if that will make any sort of difference when the very thread count of his jacket speaks to his wealth more loudly than his looks ever could.

“That’s not how this works and you know it.” Lucas keeps his eyes only on Philip, razor-sharp edge to his tone. “He’s mine if I say he’s mine.”

Lucas turns and with a firm hand to the young man’s shoulder, begins pushing him away. The young man resists, protesting, “But I–” Only it’s not him Lucas pays any attention to. As he expected, Philip reacts swiftly to their moves to leave with a violent hand reaching once more for the young man’s wrist. Lucas intercepts it before it connects, latching to Philip’s own wrist and holding it steady as he pushes the young man further away and places himself between them.

“I haven’t been paid!” Philip protests attempting to wrench his hand back from Lucas’s but it’s of no use, Lucas’s hold is strong and unyielding.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” Lucas smiles, anything but kind. “You’re gonna take this,” he flips a couple coins in his free hand, watching as Philip’s eyes flick to them before meeting his own, “and that’ll be the last I hear of this. You try to swindle another of mine, and this isn’t going to end so pleasantly, understand?”

“How much is it?” Philip asks and he might as well be pouting.

Lucas releases him and in the same move flicks the coins to his other hand, seamlessly releasing them beneath the collar of Philip’s shirt. “See for yourself.” He grins but doesn’t pause to watch as Philip curses, scrambling to retrieve the money. Lucas turns and with a much harsher shove now, steers the young man away from the vendors. Thankfully there’s little protest this time and he falls into step beside Lucas as they make their way down the street.

“Thank you.” Lucas hears his voice speaking meekly but doesn’t yet turn to face him. He nods, just once in acknowledgement. The young man can’t seem to accept the silence between them however and continues, “I truly could have paid. I’ve simply misplaced my wallet. I can’t imagine what I’ve done with it. I was positive I had it with me.”

Lucas can’t help the chuckle that escapes him and with a sigh he stops and turns to face him. The young man mirrors his movements and they stand looking directly at one another for the first time. Lucas should have prepared better for it but it’s still a little shocking. Seeing his face. In person. Like this. Though perhaps nothing could have prepared him for the sight. He covers quickly and laughs again, slightly less at ease now. “You really came down here – to _this_ part of the city, looking like that,” Lucas gestures vaguely towards him and the young man looks startled and perhaps a little insulted, as though he’s not sure why he is but he’s decided taking offense is the best defense, “leaving your wallet in your pocket and think you’re going to make it back home to your comfortable 500 thread-count bed sheets in one piece?”

“What?” The young man doesn’t seem to know what part of Lucas’s words to respond to first. “I don’t understand what you’re implying…” He trails off and Lucas can see he’s trying to mask his irritation, dependent as he is on Lucas in this moment.

Lucas shakes his head. “You were probably the easiest target pick-pocket-Polly’s seen in a long time. Can’t even blame her really, when opportunity strikes and all that, quite industrious of her really…” Lucas trails off with a shrug of his shoulders.

The young man’s mouth drops open as he digests Lucas’s words. “Pick pocket Po… I was robbed?!” He looks so thoroughly outraged, as though it is the greatest injustice that’s been done to him in his entire life. Maybe it is, Lucas thinks with derision. Lucas would like to be annoyed by the naivety but it’s far too amusing to do anything but laugh. 

“You really are a hopeless case, aren’t you?” Lucas asks as his laughter tapers off and he once more meets the young man’s eyes. Neither green nor blue – sometimes almost grey – Lucas remembers not being sure of their exact colour.

The young man’s brows are furrowed in unhappiness. “It’s unkind to laugh at my expense, you know.”

“Sure, sure,” Lucas waves off his concerns. “Well it’s been nice knowing you. Best of luck to you. I’d recommend not passing by the market on your way home.” Lucas gestures from whence they came and turns to begin walking away.

“Wait!” The young man cries and quickly jogs back to Lucas’s side, matching his quick stride with much longer legs. “You’re not just going to abandon me here?!”

Lucas sighs before stopping and once more turning to face him. “Listen,” he does his best to project apathy. He never should have come to the rescue. He's never been able to help himself and this is what it gets him, “I don’t know what you expect of me but despite what I said to Philip back there, I’m not offering to hold your hand and chaperone you through the mean streets of Paris, ok?”

“I know that.” The young man stands up straight, throwing his shoulders back in some sort of attempt at projected self-sufficiency. “I’m not asking you to. I can take care of myself.”

Lucas quirks a brow, unimpressed, before raising his shoulders just once in a shrug, as though to say, ‘ok then what is your point?’

“I just…” The young man’s voice wavers and his eyes trail to the side of them, taking in the surrounding street. “You seem to know who this pick-pocket is and… I would very much like to retrieve my belongings. It’s truly important.” He focuses his gaze on Lucas, meeting his eyes with a stare so intent Lucas has a hard time resisting the urge to break the eye contact. “I wouldn’t know where to start. I would appreciate whatever help you could offer me.”

Lucas sighs and allows his eyes to drift away from the intensity of the young man’s, instead focusing up and past his shoulder, down the street where more shadows seem to have encroached on the street. The day is getting late. _He won’t last an hour_ a quiet voice whispers in Lucas’s head and he’s irritated by its input.

“I can pay you. I mean – the moment I have back my wallet. I will pay you.”

Lucas scoffs quickly, “I don’t need your money.” God what a lie that is. But like hell Lucas is going to accept his money.

The young man is verklempt, overwhelmed and desperate, and Lucas can’t help but notice the way his hands shake as he pulls the sleeves of his jacket down to cover them.

“Fine,” he concedes and has to look away as the young man’s eyes quickly dart back to him filled with hope. “We’ll go get your wallet back. But I’m starving and I’m not doing it on an empty stomach.” He doesn’t wait for a response, turning and walking towards a brightly lit restaurant just down the street. It’s a complete dive but it’s cheap and the food is good. He sees the young man come to walk beside him from the corner of his eye.

“Thank you,” he says with a relieved exhale. “I truly appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Lucas responds with an unconcerned shrug.

“I’m Eliott by the way.” He’s not even using a fake name. An hour might have been too generous.

“Lucas.”

* * * *

“What did he mean? The man – Philip – what did he mean when he said I wasn’t one of your kids? Do you have children?”

Lucas laughs lightly from where they’re sat in the corner of the restaurant. He supposes he’s old enough to have children. Twenty-four is hardly young on these streets. “No,” he answers with a grin. “Just have some kids I look out for.” Eliott nods, looking contemplative, and Lucas can’t stand it anymore, he has to say something. “You know you look ridiculous sitting there with that hood pulled over your face – like you should be casting spells or hunting down Orcs or something.” Lucas rolls his eyes gesturing at the ridiculous picture Eliott makes. Truly he’s the exact opposite of inconspicuous.

Eliott’s eyes dart around them and Lucas watches as he shifts nervously. “Um, I’d just rather not have people noticing me.”

Lucas understands but Eliott clearly underestimates how little people in this place will care and just how much anyone inside it is also trying to appear invisible. “I promise everyone in here is too drunk or disinterested to give you more than a second look. The way you look right now though, and they just might.”

Eliott looks down to his hands on the table for a moment, twisting them nervously together before they go to his hood and pull it back and off his head. He pulls the hoodie and jacket off entirely then, leaving him in a spotless white t-shirt that is far too pristine and wrinkle-free for such an establishment. But it’s better. He looks… well anyways…

“There you go.” Lucas offers him a slanted smile. “Was that so hard?”

“Well,” Eliott smiles nervously back, “it was the Lord of the Rings reference that did it. How can I argue with that logic?”

It startles a laugh out of Lucas he didn’t expect. Eliott grins in return, looking pleased with himself.

“Wouldn’t have taken you to get the reference,” Lucas admits.

“What – why?” Eliott looks instantly wary and Lucas doesn’t hesitate in explaining.

“Look at you.” Lucas shrugs with a smirk. “All prim and proper. You look like you’d rather be taking tea with the Queen than watching some fantasy film with elves and orcs.”

Eliott shifts uncomfortably, corners of his mouth turning down slightly. “I like fantasy.”

“Uh hunh,” Lucas replies unconvinced. “I’m sure you’ve seen all the cool-kid films.”

“I have!” And now he’s nearly pouting and Lucas could maybe admit, if under some form of torture, that it’s pretty damn cute. Eliott’s eyes drop to his hands again as he continues. “I’ve seen lots of movies.”

“Hey,” Lucas can’t stand the look on Eliott’s face, “chin up, buttercup.”

Eliott’s expression instantly transforms into one torn between amusement and confusion as he asks, “Buttercup?”

Lucas smiles in return. “Apparently not enough movies to get that reference.” He says it nearly under his breath and can see that Eliott is going to ask for clarification. He turns to signal the server instead.

When she arrives, he quickly orders a sizable meal – a burger, fries, and side of onion rings – he wasn’t kidding when he said he was starving. It’s nearly 20h and it’s his first meal of the day. She turns to Eliott, pen at the ready.

“Oh um,” Eliott keeps his head down, barely looking up from the table, “I’m fine thank you. I’m not hungry.”

Lucas scoffs. “He’ll have the same as me.” The waitress nods and walks off, ignoring Eliott’s sound of protest as she goes.

“Lucas,” Is that the first time Eliott’s said his name? It feels like the first time, “I don’t have my wallet. I don’t have any money to pay.”

“Eh, it’s fine.” Lucas shrugs and has to look away from the intensity of Eliott’s eyes. Who looks at people like that anyways? Like there’s no one else in the room. It’s weird. That’s what it is. _Weird_.

“I’ll pay you back,” Eliott insists, drawing Lucas’s eyes back to him. “Even if I can’t get my wallet back. I’ll still pay you back. I can get money from – from home.”

Lucas almost laughs. “What – can’t you tell…” He adjusts his hoodie as though straightening the lapels of a priceless suit and deepens his voice. “I’m rolling in dough, my good man.” He tips his head up and gazes at Eliott over his upturned nose. “T’would be an insult to repay charity such as this.”

“Charity?” Eliott’s eyes have lit up in amusement and he’s barely suppressing a smile.

“That’s right,” Lucas agrees. “Just look at you. With your posh clothes and fancy hands –”

“Fancy hands?” Eliott is full-on grinning now.

Lucas ignores the interruption. “And that hair…” Lucas let’s himself trail off watching with smothered amusement as Eliott’s hand predictably goes to his hair, patting at it awkwardly.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Eliott rakes his hand through it but it’s a fruitless endeavor. At one point it was clearly carefully quaffed, meticulous, not a hair out of place. Now however, thanks in part to Eliott’s attempted discretion with the hood he’d worn and in larger part to the hands running through the strands now, his hair spikes and twists out of formation as though it had been waiting for the opportunity. It bounces right back to wild and standing formation after each pass of Eliott’s hand. It’s like watching a battle between two adversaries, both with iron wills. Lucas is hard-pressed not to smile. Instead he raises an appraising eyebrow.

“Well it’s a travesty isn’t it?” He scoffs, shaking his head in as pitying a manner as he can manage. “Ridiculous hair like that would get you killed in these parts.”

Eliott’s pout quickly dissolves, a laugh bursting from him before he attempts to mask it with a cough. He dips his head, biting at his lower lip around a grin before he meets Lucas’s eyes. “That’s why it’s charity then? You’re saving me from murderous hair critics?”

“Them and food vendors you decide to rob.” Lucas shrugs and honestly, he should win an award for how well he’s keeping his face under control.

“I wasn’t robbing him!” Eliott’s insists aghast and just a little bit too loudly for someone attempting not to be noticed. He seems to recognize that in the same instant and with a quick look around them he lowers his voice. “I would have paid! He didn’t listen. He was just… terribly rude and unkind.”

Well Lucas can’t be blamed for giving into his amusement – just a little. _Terribly rude and unkind_. “My god,” Lucas chuckles. “Philip’s lucky he missed that tongue lashing. Would have left him shaking in his boots it would.”

Eliott’s cheeks instantly flush and his eyes fall to the table between them. “He was shaking in his boots. Because of you. Why – why was he so scared of you anyways?” His eyes dart back to Lucas’s as he asks, curiosity seeming to win out over his own embarrassment.

“I don’t know about scared,” Lucas admits, settling back into his seat and glancing around them. He takes stock of those he knows within the restaurant and those less familiar before his eyes return to Eliott who’s looking back steadily. “He just knows disagreeing with me is more trouble than it’s worth.” Lucas shrugs and breaks eyes contact, unable to hold Eliott’s fixed gaze. “He’s never really been on my good side but he’s right to try to stay off the bad. My tolerance for bullshit is running pretty damn low these days.”

A soft laugh draws Lucas’s eyes back to him. Lucas raises an eyebrow at the amused expression that’s taken over Eliott’s features. “Sorry it’s just –” Eliott’s cheeks are still flush and combined with his nervous smile he looks like a schoolboy who’s just watched the other children pull a prank on the teacher – not participated of course, oh no, no, no – but watched. _Scandalous._ “He was intimidated. By _you_.”

Both of Lucas’s eyebrows crawl to his forehead now. There’s nothing but cheek infusing Eliott’s voice. Lucas didn’t think he had it in him. “Excuse me,” Lucas protests with a smile, “I am very intimidating.”

“If you say so.”

It draws a laugh from Lucas he can’t contain and Eliott looks simultaneously shocked and delighted by his own gall.

He’s saved by their food arriving. Lucas would have had to set him straight otherwise. Can’t allow pretty, posh boys to go around giving him unchecked cheek, all footloose and fancy free without dire consequences to Lucas’s reputation.

* * * *

“Is it because of the kids you take care of?”

It’s as they’re walking away from the restaurant that Eliott asks. Lucas wonders how long he’s been biding his time before raising the topic again. They hadn’t spoken much in the restaurant once the food had arrived. Lucas had attacked his plate ravenously, only coming up for air once it was scraped clean. And it had been to the sight of Eliott watching him, looking half fascinated, half horrified, as though it was the first time he’d ever seen someone eat food without carefully blotting their mouth, napkin in hand, between bites. But like hell Lucas was going to apologize for his table manners – or lack thereof – to someone who’s likely never experienced the gnawing sensation of true hunger.

He turns his face slightly towards Eliott as they walk, waiting for clarification though he’s fairly certain he knows what Eliott means.

Eliott speaks again. “That you have to … intimidate, I suppose. People like Philip. Is that related to the kids you care for?”

Lucas really doesn’t want to get into this. Not with Eliott. “Something like that.” He motions to a dimly lit building ahead to their left. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?”

Lucas ignores the question and detours down the side of the building into a narrow, dark alley. He hears Eliott’s footsteps stop behind him and pauses to glance back. Eliott is standing at the entrance of the alley looking wary.

“Well? You coming?” Lucas asks from where he stands, walls of the alleyway are crowding him. He sees Eliott take a deep breath before he makes his way towards Lucas, more cautiously and slowly than Lucas had done. Lucas waits until Eliott stops in front of him.

Eliott’s eyes dart behind Lucas, taking in the rest of the alleyway engulfed in shadow before he speaks, a nervous tenor to his voice, “Are you sure this is safe?”

Lucas lets out a low chuckle and takes a step back. He watches as Eliott nervously bites his lip, his eyes not leaving Lucas’s. “Don’t tell me you’re scared…”

Eliott doesn’t attempt to mask his discomfort. “Well why shouldn’t I be?” He casts an appraising look at Lucas. “I’m in a dark alley with some guy I just met. A guy street meat Philip is afraid of.”

“ _Street meat Philip,_ ” Lucas laughs. “That’s clever. I should start calling him that. He’ll hate it.”

Eliott sighs and if Lucas didn’t know better, he’d say Eliott’s perhaps a little frustrated with him. Lucas won’t deny it’s somewhat delightful.

“I’m just saying,” Eliott continues voiced strained, “I don’t know what we’re doing or where we are, and you won’t tell me anything. I have plenty of cause for concern.” He adjusts his posture, attempting an air of authority.

“Cause for concern,” Lucas mimics and grins when Eliott rolls his eyes as though an impulsive, involuntary reaction. “Look at you,” Lucas steps back towards him, tilting his face up as he moves close enough that the tips of their boots touch, “with your fancy hair and fancy clothes and fancy words. All puffed up and in charge.” Lucas drags his eyes down Eliott’s body before meeting his eyes with an eyebrow raised. “We’re going to get your wallet back after it was stolen from a pick-pocket. What exactly were you expecting – a candlelit dinner with your wallet delivered on a silver platter?”

“What? No I –” Lucas would swear even in the dim light Eliott’s cheeks flush to a startling red. “I can handle myself perfectly fine, thank you. I’d just like some idea of what we’re doing. Following strange men down alleyways isn’t particularly something I do regularly.”

“Oh no?” Lucas can’t resist the opening he’s been given, a crooked smile taking over his face. “You really haven’t lived then have you?”

“What?” To Lucas’s simultaneous amusement and disappointment Eliott doesn’t seem to get the lurid suggestion, his eyebrows bunching in confusion. “Why would I want to follow men into alleyw–” His jaw drops as he catches on. “Oh you mean… _oh_.”

“God,” Lucas laughs and he can’t help it. Eliott’s naivety is just so… “Adorable. You’re adorable.” 

Eliott shakes his head and glances away for a moment, clearly biting back a grin. “Alright, alright. Well unless that’s what you had in mind; I do believe we have a wallet to retrieve do we not?”

And well… that’s too good an opportunity isn’t it? Lucas tilts his head slightly, dropping his voice to a near whisper and he looks up at Eliott. “And if I said that’s what I had in mind?”

Eliott’s swallows before answering just as quietly. “Then I’d say I’m not dressed appropriately. These pants stain terribly, and the pavement would be rough on the knees.”

Lucas can’t contain his laugh of surprise as he steps back impressed. “Well now… who knew you had it in you? You’re a sassy little thing, aren’t you?”

Eliott is not entirely successful in hiding his smile. “ _You_ are calling _me_ little?”

“I promise,” Lucas smirks, “there’s nothing little about me.”

“Not from where I’m standing.” Eliott eyes flick up and down Lucas’s body. “And unless you care to prove it – I believe we have a wallet to rescue.”

Lucas scoffs. “Alright, alright. Can’t blame me for pausing to enjoy this delightful growth.”

“Growth?” Eliott raises an eyebrow in inquiry.

“From bumbling posh boy to confident sassafras right before my eyes.” Lucas presses his lips together in a false show of containing emotion. “They grow up so fast.”

Eliott laugh bursts from him in a bubble before he contains it. “Shut up.”

“Whooaaaaaa,” Lucas exaggerates. “Careful with the attitude there, sasspants. Growth is a process you know. Don’t need to go full hog right away. Baby steps. Work your way up to telling me off. All in good time.” 

Eliott rolls his eyes. “You are insufferable.” And then he’s abruptly pushing by Lucas, their bodies pressed together for the briefest moment as he squeezes by in the narrow alleyway before marching on in what Lucas has no doubt is false confidence. God he’s just… ridiculous. Has Lucas mentioned that? He’s ridiculous.

“Know where you’re going then?” Lucas calls after him.

“No,” Eliott replies without looking back. “But you’re going to tell me.”

Lucas grins. Who knew beneath that thread-count there was nothing but sass.

* * * *

“In here?” Eliott’s voice is thick with unease as he points to the darkened open doorway, blocked by a single board with the words “fuck off” spray painted across it.

“Yep.” Lucas replies with a pop of his lips, not bothering to check his amused smile. “I can go first if you’re scared.”

Eliott looks back at him, an irritated look on his face that only has the smile on Lucas’s growing. He doesn’t bother replying and with a measuring breath, ducks below the board and moves on into the space beyond. Lucas follows.

The darkened space of the abandoned building isn’t much to see upon entering. Simple concrete floors, broken palettes littering the ground, and spiders having claimed the exposed rafters as their own. Large rusted metal pillars break up the room, one tilting at a precarious enough angle as to not lend much confidence is the buildings structural integrity.

Lucas watches Eliott’s face as he joins him at the center of the room. Eliott has turned his phone’s flashlight on and is using it to inspect the room surrounding them.

Lucas points towards it as Eliott’s swings the light towards him. “No lights. Turn that off.”

“What? Why?” Eliott looks like he’s trying to decide if Lucas is pulling his leg.

“You want to just yell we’re here then? Let them know we’re coming so they have a chance to scurry?” Lucas asks with a raised eyebrow.

Eliott doesn’t react immediately, assessing Lucas for another moment before he finally gives in, turning the light off and casting them into darkness. Lucas can see Eliott blink rapidly, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. His hands reach slightly out in front of him as though he fears the room is suddenly changing configuration while he is temporarily without clear sight. Lucas smiles as he watches him. His eyes have always adjusted to darkness quickly, perhaps some sort of twisted gift from the gods who knew he’d live so much of his own life blanketed in shadows. 

“I can’t see anything,” Eliott whispers now, as though he fears the pressing blackness surrounding him will grow angry should he raise his voice above a soft breath.

Lucas moves silently, positioning himself at Eliott’s side before he answers. “Yes, that tends to happen when you turn out the lights.”

Eliott jumps at the sound of Lucas’s voice coming from a position he didn’t expect. He turns his body towards Lucas, reaching out further with his hands to locate him by touch. Lucas moves again, feet a bare whisper against the floor.

Behind him now he glides his eyes across Eliott’s shoulders, stiff and pulled towards his ears.

“Lucas, where are you?” Eliott takes a step forward, hands spread in front of him. Lucas moves with him, shadowing his tentative steps forward.

“Can’t you tell?” Lucas responds, stepping back as Eliott’s swings around to face him with a startled sound.

Eliott expels a gust of air in irritation. “Why can you see? It’s pitch dark in here!”

“I’ve adjusted,” Lucas replies as he circles him, drawing closer and letting the air from his movements press against Eliott. “Don’t tell me you’re scared now.”

Eliott no longer chases his movements, only turning his head slightly as he feels Lucas move around him. “I’m not scared.”

“Oh no?” Lucas asks breath hot against the back of Eliott’s neck. A ripple of movement runs through Eliott like live current before he stamps it down and replies.

“No.” He exhales, and it sounds shaky to Lucas’s ear. “You should stick to scaring street meat Philip. Seems more your area of expertise.”

Lucas chuckles reaching for his own phone and flicking the flashlight on as he comes to stand in front of Eliott. “Alright, sasspup.”

Eliott’s eyes flick to Lucas’s phone before they come to rest of his face. “I thought you said no light?”

“Don’t look at me.” Lucas shrugs. “You’re the one who believed me. What – you thought I’d make you flail through the dark until you… summoned your wallet?” Eliott rolls his eyes. That makes three times tonight. Lucas likes it. He wonders if he can get him to ten.

“You wouldn’t have let me flail.” Lucas isn’t sure he likes the confidence in Eliott’s tone. What he can’t help but enjoy however is that cocky little look on Eliott’s face.

“Shall we find out then?” Lucas challenges, raising his phone slightly.

Eliott’s face quickly transforms, anxiety taking over as he reaches out. His hand covers Lucas’s holding the phone clasping tightly. “No. Please. Let’s leave the light on.” Lucas raises an eyebrow and directs his eyes to where Eliott’s hand still has his own in a firm hold. Eliott quickly pulls back. “Sorry. Just – I’d prefer if we left the light on. Please.”

Lucas laughs softly. “Ok. Light stays on,” he agrees much to Eliott’s obvious relief, his shoulders drop and a small smile making its way onto his face. “I’ve had enough of your stalling anyways. We’ve got a wallet to rescue.”

“I wasn’t stalling!” Eliott sputters outraged. “You’re the one who’s been wasting time playing games!”

“Oh, likely story.” Lucas smirks. “It’s ok to tell the truth. You can admit you wanted to spend more time with me in the dark. Can’t blame you really – greater men have tried and failed to resist my charms.”

Eliott rolls his eyes. _Four_. “If you do not tell the truth about yourself you cannot tell it about other people. Virginia Woolf,” Eliott quotes primly. “I’m being entirely truthful.”

Oh. _Ouch_. That one hit a little too close to home. Lucas masks his discomfort with a smile and turns to lead them further into the building. “Come along then, Ms. Woolf. This wallet isn’t going to save itself.”

He hears Eliott follow him, close behind, not allowing any distance as though he fears Lucas might still have a trick up his sleeve. Lucas winds them through the empty rooms and halls towards the center of the building, slowing as the sound of voices and the crackling of the fire pit can be heard. He stops entirely as they reach the edge of what has become a sort of central courtyard, the collapsed roof of the building opening the space to the night sky. The center fire pit flames flicker casting shadows throughout the space and onto the faces of those sprawled around it.

Eliott crowds closely behind, and Lucas notes as he turns to look at him, looks more curious than fearful of the scene before them. “What is this place?”

Lucas looks back to the group spread through the courtyard. “Just a place to hunker down for the night. To be safe with friends.”

“They don’t have homes?”

Lucas expels a breath of amusement. “Not everyone walks around in two-hundred thread-count jackets. Not everyone has a home.”

“What’s with you and my jacket?” Eliott meets his eye with an amused look, seemingly unbothered by the judgement rich in Lucas’s tone.

“Just try not to draw attention to yourself, yeah? Stay behind me.” Lucas walks forward, not looking back to confirm Eliott is following but feeling his presence all the same. No one notices their approach initially, too wrapped up in their own conversations or thoughts.

Lucas calls out when he’s close enough to be heard over the crackling fire, “Mary – darling. Looking ravishing tonight!”

Mary looks up from where she’s sat on the other side of the fire, picking through a sandwich. She looks immediately unimpressed when her eyes land on him. “Lallemant. What the hell do you want?”

“Now, now,” he chides. “Don’t you flirt with me. You know what it does to me and I’m afraid I just don’t have the time. I’m here for business.” She rolls her eyes. Lucas seems to unwittingly have that effect on people. A skill he’s clearly been unintentionally perfecting through the years.

“God you’re such an asshole.” She says it with a reluctant smile and Lucas happily returns a pleased smile of his own. “Well? Out with it then. You never show up here unless you want something.”

“Aw c’mon now. You don’t think that little of me, do you?” He’s wearing his most charming grin and much to Lucas’s delight it only aggravates her further. He moves around the fire closer towards her and her eyes dart behind him.

“What’s with the pretty boy?”

Lucas glances back to where Eliott stands awkwardly just behind his shoulder, wringing his hands in clear anxiety.

“Um, I’m Eliott?” He speaks it as though waiting for confirmation as to the veracity of his statement.

Lucas sighs. Turning back towards Mary with a shake of his head. “That is my charity case for the evening apparently. And you have something of his.”

Mary’s eyes are still on Eliott and she doesn’t show signs of having heard Lucas, too intrigued by the sight of the obvious interloper.

“She does?” Lucas looks back to Eliott at the sound of his voice. So much for not drawing attention to himself. Lucas isn’t the least bit surprised that he can’t follow instructions. “I thought you said –” Eliott’s eyes move from Mary to Lucas in inquiry. “I thought you said Polly had it?”

Lucas looks back to Mary and they share a quick look of shared amusement before he returns his attention to Eliott. “Yeah.” He refuses to give any more, finding Eliott’s confusion far too entertaining.

Eliott dips his head a little lower and closer to Lucas, dropping his voice though his words are likely still overheard by Mary. “But her name is Mary?”

Lucas can’t help himself, letting out a bark of laughter and smiling as a deep line forms between Eliott’s brows. “Sure. Mary. Molly. Polly.” He shrugs as though this were obvious. In fact, it is. To Mary and Lucas at least. An inside joke from years past.

The look of confusion doesn’t leave Eliott’s face but he clearly isn’t interested in questioning Lucas’s logic any further, simply nodding once and looking back to Mary.

“Anyways,” Lucas is hard pressed to tear his eyes away from Eliott’s adorably confused face but somehow manages to do so, once again looking to Mary, “we’re here to retrieve it.”

“What?” Mary looks like she’s losing interest in the conversation, having deemed Eliott no threat and only ever with limited tolerance for Lucas.

“His wallet, Mary.” Lucas strips his voice of any previous levity, instead infusing it with authority he knows will keep Mary’s attention focused on him.

“ _His_ wallet?” The idea of having someone else’s wallet isn’t the surprise. It seems to be the fact that it belongs to the man she sees before her that stumps her momentarily.

“That’s right, babe. I’m guessing it’s the generous beneficiary behind this decadent spread you’ve got going.” Lucas gestures to the loot surrounding her, additional sandwiches and a bag of what seems to candy and various drinks. Lucas can’t accuse her of not having her priorities straight. “Anyways, we’d be most obliged if you’d return it.”

She shrugs unconcerned and reaches into her bag, rooting around for a moment before pulling out three wallets. Good night for Mary then. She thrusts the hand holding them towards Eliott. “Take your pick. Sorry but it’ll be short some change.”

“Oh um,” Eliott shuffles around Lucas, moving forward and delicately taking his wallet back, “that’s alright. Thank you.”

Lucas snorts. “You did not just thank her for stealing your wallet and money.”

Eliott glances to Lucas, brow furrowed. “I’m thanking her for returning it. It’s only polite.”

“Oh my god.” Lucas shares a laugh with Mary who seems charmed despite herself. “Can’t believe I thought you’d last an hour down here. Make that ten minutes. Maybe.”

“Oh, be nice!” Mary chastises, smile still on her face. “He’s sweet. I like him. I would have looked out for him if you hadn’t have gotten your grubby hands on him first.”

Eliott smiles at her looking pleased.

“You stole his wallet!” Lucas objects, about done with the little bonding session Mary and Eliott seem to now have going on. “Yeah you definitely had his best interests in mind.”

Mary doesn’t bother to look at Lucas, keeping her eyes on Eliott as she answers, “Well I hadn’t met him yet had I? I’m Mary by the way. That scoundrel never gave us a proper introduction like.” She extends her hand, now emptied of wallets. Eliott gladly takes it, smiling down at her warmly.

“Eliott. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mary.”

“Well you are charming,” she giggles, and it makes her look her age for a moment. She can’t be older than thirty but most days the many years she’s spent on the street seem to be reflected on her face, making her look decades older than she is. In fact, she and Eliott are likely only separated by a few years. It’s a startling realization. “Lallemant,” she flicks her eyes to Lucas before returning her attention to Eliott, “be sure to bring this one by more often. I might be more willing to put up with your _charms_ if you did.”

Well Lucas doesn’t like the way she said that at all. As though another, much less flattering word is meant in place of charms. He watches Mary and Eliott smile at one another. Eliott and Lucas have clearly overstayed their welcome.

“Alright. We’re leaving.” Lucas moves forward, hooking a hand around Eliott’s elbow and firmly pulling him away.

“Wait, wait,” Eliott protests, not wrenching himself from Lucas’s grip but pulling against it until Lucas is forced to stop and turn back towards him. Eliott is shuffling through his wallet. Lucas isn’t sure what he’s looking to find. Mary was pretty clear that she’d stripped the wallet of its useful financial contents. “Here.” To Lucas’s immense surprise Eliott pulls out fifty euros. Quickly unfolding the bill, he reaches forward to offer it to Mary.

She stands at the sight of it, looking shocked and wary. She doesn’t step any closer to take it. Lucas can’t blame her. “Where did – that wasn’t there before.”

“Oh yes,” Eliott nods smiling. “There’s a secret pocket. For emergencies. Please. Take it.”

“Why?” Suspicion paints Mary’s face. Lucas knows just what she’s thinking. No one offers anything for free. Not in their world.

“For the imposition – the um, the interruption,” Eliott replies before suddenly looking concerned. “I mean no insult,” he continues. “Just consider it a thank you. For being so kind.”

She looks no further assuaged by this explanation; her eyes hard as she looks at Eliott.

“Take it Mary!” It seems they’ve attracted the attention of a few others spread around the fire. “What are you an idiot?! Just take it!”

Mary’s ignores the encouragement, looking only at Eliott as she speaks. “No one offers fifty fucking euros as a thank you. Not without wanting something back.”

Eliott looks decidedly confused by this, glancing down at the money before looking back to Mary and then to Lucas. His eyes stay on Lucas for a moment as he decides on a response before he turns back to Mary. “Well then,” he smiles, “you can consider it payment for putting up with Lucas.”

“What?!” Lucas interrupts, hand dropping from Eliott’s elbow in outrage.

Eliott turns to grin at him only for a second before looking back to Mary. “I’ve only been with him for a couple hours and I’d say payment is definitely an appropriate way of rewarding such a challenge, wouldn’t you?” _The absolute sass._ “You’ve been putting up with him for much longer than me, I imagine. Surely fifty euros is hardly even generous under those circumstances.” Lucas has to work much harder than he would like to reign in an impressed smile as Mary’s face transforms with a laugh.

“Well that’s true,” Mary giggles. “Someone _should_ be paying me to put up with his shit.”

Lucas scoffs, crossing his arms and doing his best to look entirely unimpressed with the proceedings.

Eliott steps a little closer to Mary. “So please take it? With my best wishes for future encounters with him.”

Mary giggles again. “Well alright then.” She reaches forward, taking the money from Eliott. “I mean it though – you’re welcome back any time. All the better if you don’t bring Lallemant with you. You and I could have some fun I’m sure.”

Eliott laughs, his eyes dropping shyly to the ground and hand going nervously to his hair. “Ok. Thank you.”

“Yeah we’re really going now.” Lucas moves forward, wrapping an arm around Eliott’s back this time and firmly steering him away from Mary.

“Later, Lallemant,” Mary calls from behind them. “Let’s do it again some time.”

Lucas waves a hand over his shoulder in reply. Not releasing his hold on Eliott until they reach the hall and he can be assured Eliott isn’t about to turn back and offer up his family inheritance.

“She was nice.” Eliott remarks as they make their back into the building, tracing their footsteps.

Lucas snorts. “You really couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“What?” Eliott asks from beside Lucas, looking over at him in question.

“Offering money like that,” Lucas replies with a shake of the head. “Not really how things are done around here.”

“Well why not?” Eliott objects, face stubborn. “Why can’t it be that way? I had it. And I don’t need it. Why shouldn’t I give it to Mary?”

Lucas sighs. There’s no easy way to explain this. Not to someone like Eliott. “People don’t need that kind of hope being offered. Not when it’s fleeting. Not when it’s just to make you feel good about yourself. That kind of charity doesn’t help. Not here.”

“Oh and what – yours does?” Eliott grabs Lucas’s arm, pulling him to a stop. Lucas reluctantly turns to face him. The darkness of the hallway casts Eliott’s face in shadows, making him look far more severe. “Paying for my food. Taking me on some random search to get my wallet back. All of that – that’s allowed? But I can’t offer someone help?”

Lucas tips his head back, looking towards the roof with a sigh before he looks back to Eliott. “You don’t need it. Any of it. My help. You’d be fine. It’s different with Mary.”

“Well I don’t regret it.” Eliott crosses his arms. “She was nice to me.” His stubbornness could give Lucas a run for his money.

“Yeah I’m not even a little surprised.” Lucas motions with his head towards to hall. “Can we go now? Or did you want to lecture me further?”

Eliott rolls his eyes. _Five_. “Lead the way.”

As they reach the darkened room they’d entered the building through, Lucas can feel Eliott clasp to the back of his jacket and he nearly laughs. “I’ll keep the light on if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You and Mary know one another well?” The question comes out of nowhere and Lucas pauses to look back at him, flashing the light slightly to make out Eliott’s face.

“I guess,” Lucas replies confused. “Well enough. I know most people in these parts.”

Eliott nods, eyes lowered as he shuffles on his feet, not releasing his hold on Lucas’s jacket but not meeting his eyes either. “She said – um, well, it just sounded like perhaps you two were well acquainted.”

An abrupt laugh bursts from Lucas in response. “You think…” he trails off chuckling as Eliott finally looks up at him curiously. “Me and Mary? _Really_?”

“What? She’s very pretty.”

Lucas laughs again. “Yes. And I am very, _very_ gay. I thought I made that obvious.”

“Oh.” Eliott’s looking directly at him now, his mouth dropped open just a little.

“That’s not a problem is it?” Lucas asks eyebrow raised.

“No. No! Of course not.” Eliott shakes his head rapidly in denial. “I don’t mind that you’re gay.”

“Ok then.” Lucas chuckles and turns back to continue leading them carefully through the darkened room. Eliott releases his hold when they reach the door, waiting as Lucas crouches under the board blocking the doorway to exit. Eliott follows.

“I’m not straight.” Eliott suddenly declares, a little louder than required in the still, quiet of the night.

Lucas pauses in the middle of the alley, glancing back at Eliott. “Oh?”

“No. I’m –” He swallows heavily before finishing his sentence. “I’m pan. Pansexual?”

Lucas turns around to face him fully, tilting his head slightly as he observes Eliott, shoulders hunched, hands pulling nervously at the sleeves of his jacket, but eyes meeting Lucas’s in what could almost be called defiance.

“Why you’d say that like it was a question?”

“Oh well, I guess I just,” Eliott rakes a shaking hand through the strands of his hair, growing more unruly by the minute, “I’ve never said it before. Like – out loud.”

“Really?” Lucas asks surprised. “Why tell me then?”

Eliott shrugs, looking away from Lucas uncomfortably. “I don’t know. Just wanted to.”

Lucas smiles. “Ok.”

“Ok.” Eliott let’s a small smile spread on his face in reply.

Lucas turns back to continue leading them down the alley. “How is it possible no one knows though? Like you’ve gotta be… how old?” _Twenty-six._

“Twenty-six.” Eliott replies.

“I mean, I guess it’s different for everyone, but I’d had it pretty sorted by thirteen,” Lucas remarks remembering the circumstances that lead to that particular revelation. “I only lasted a few years before I was near ready to explode. Sixteen. That’s how long I made it until I was shouting it to anyone who would listen. I don’t think there’s anyone in my life who doesn’t know now. And anyone who wasn’t good with it were cut a long time ago.”

He hears Eliott sigh deeply. “Yeah. It’s – I don’t know – complicated, I guess. My sister knows. My best friend too. And my ex. I haven’t said it, but they know. My mom sort of knows too because – well… anyways, we don’t talk about.”

“That sucks.” Lucas can’t think of a more eloquent way of summing it up.

“It does,” Eliott agrees.

Just as Lucas approaches the end of the alleyway a shadow suddenly blocks their path. Lucas immediately freezes, Eliott running into his back. His eyes go to the man's face. He’s large. Much bigger than Lucas. And strong. Lucas can see his muscles stretching the limits of the buttoned shirt he wears beneath is open jacket. He’s no one Lucas has ever seen before. Lucas tenses, adjusting his footing and adopting a defensive stance. He doesn’t raise his hands. Not yet. Not wanting to prompt a fight or suggest his own inclination towards such preparation. Certainly not while in a relatively vulnerable position within a narrow alley with Eliott behind him.

“Eliott.” The figure speaks, voice deep and clearly irritated.

“Idriss?” Eliott replies, moving slightly forward and beside Lucas. Lucas’s arm swings out of its own volition, blocking Eliott from moving any closer towards the man. Lucas sees the man – Idriss – tense in response, his own stance repositioning. The movement is familiar. This man is equipped for a fight. “No, Lucas,” Eliott grabs the arm blocking his way, squeezing slightly, “I know him. He’s my – my best friend. I know him.”

 _Best friend?_ Lucas doesn’t look back to Eliott to confirm he’s heard correctly, keeping his eyes on Idriss. “You know him?”

“Yes. Yes, it’s ok.” Eliott flaps a hand towards Idriss. “Stop blocking the alley like that, Idriss. Jesus. Let us through.”

Lucas can see Idriss’s eyes in the darkness flick back and forth between them before he seems to make a decision. Body relaxing, he steps back from the alley, swinging an arm in suggestion they continue. “Please.”

Lucas doesn’t move until Eliott pushing at his back offers him no other option. He leads the rest of the way down the alley and out. Keeping his eyes on Idriss as they exit, he turns his body to face him, keeping enough distance between them so as not to be within arm’s reach. Eliott follows, placing himself next to Lucas. Idriss meets Lucas’s challenging gaze, clearly sizing Lucas up and finding him wanting. It’s ok. Lucas is used to being underestimated. It’s always worked in his favour.

“Idriss, how did you find me?” Eliott asks. Idriss gives Lucas one last look before turning his attention to Eliott. He’s far more relaxed now, having deemed Lucas no serious threat.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Idriss replies, eyebrow raised, annoyance clear in his voice. “Your phone is on, Eliott. You know I can track you.” Idriss tracked him? What _sort of best friends track one another?_

“You said you wouldn’t! You said you’d give me space!” Eliott replies petulantly. He sounds like a five-year-old on the cusp of a tantrum. Lucas let’s his eyes wander from Idriss to Eliott, who is indeed standing with arms crossed, pouting. Lucas imagines he’s about one wrong word from Idriss away from stomping his foot.

“I said I’d give you an hour to yourself. I did _not_ say I’d let you wander off on your own into this part of the city for _hours_. Theo said you just had him drop you off on a corner and told him to leave. Really, Eliott?” Idriss replies looking torn between irritation and amusement at Eliott’s current state.

“I’m fine!” Eliott huffs. “I would have come back on my own. Or called Theo! You didn’t have to come collect me.”

Idriss chuckles without any humour. “Right. I’m responsible for you Eliott. Your safety is on me.”

“Why?” Lucas interrupts. “Why is his safety your responsibility? Why would you track him?” Lucas thinks he knows but he’ll enjoy them trying to talk their way out of this anyways.

Eliott answers quickly before Idriss is able to. “He’s exaggerating. He’s just protective.”

Idriss doesn’t say anything, eyes narrowing as he looks back and forth between Lucas and Eliott. He seems to come to some sort of conclusion and his face transforms as he suddenly laughs, a true laugh this time. He shakes his head. “Seriously, Eliott?”

“Leave it,” Eliott replies. “Just give me a second to say bye, ok?”

Idriss nods, “Go for it,” and doesn’t move, keeping his eyes firmly on them both. Lucas has to say he’s developing a grudging amount of respect for him. Anyone who questions someone’s motives to the extent Idriss clearly does, would likely get along just fine in Lucas’s world. Trust is too blindly offered by people like Eliott. It’s a fact Idriss seems aware of as well.

Eliott sighs irritated before turning towards Lucas. “Um, sorry,” he motions towards Idriss, “for all this.”

Lucas turns and meets his gaze with a shrug. “Not my problem.”

“Right. Well,” Eliott shuffles awkwardly, glancing down at the pavement before up at Lucas once more. “I better go.”

“Mmhmm. Guess so.”

“Do you think –” Eliott glances quickly towards Idriss before looking back to Lucas, lowering his voice a little. “Would it be alright if I got your number? Just like – so we could maybe hang out again?”

Lucas hears Idriss expel a breath and he’s pretty sure it’s one of amusement. He shares the sentiment.

“You don’t need my number, sassling,” Lucas replies with a crooked smile. “Trust me. You’ll do better without it.”

“Oh.” Eliott doesn’t hide the disappointment on his face. Lucas refuses to give into it. “Ok. Well um – bye then.”

Lucas nods and waits until Eliott has turned, moving towards Idriss before he replies, “It was a pleasure, Princeling.”

Eliott whips around in surprise, his face a mask of shock. “What?” Idriss too has frozen in place, his attention back solely on Lucas now. “What did you say?!” Eliott asks astonished.

Lucas grins, shoving his hands in his pockets with a shrug as he backs away from them. “Who knew France had such a sassmaster for a Prince?”

“But,” Eliott takes a step back towards him and Lucas sees Idriss’s hand fall firmly on his shoulder holding him in place, “but wait, Lucas –”

“Don’t worry, Highness. Your secret is safe with me.” Lucas bestows him one last grin before turning the corner and letting the shadows swallow him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 is coming tomorrow!


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter heading graphic courtesy of Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr) of course! 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the enthusiasm after I posted the prologue! It set a fire under my ass to get this chapter up early today (or in my case... very very late at night but early for most of you overseas). Hope you enjoy!

* * * * 

* * * *

It’s later than he promised by the time he’s letting himself into Yann’s. But then, nothing tonight has gone exactly as he would have expected. Upon entering the small apartment, he hears Yann call, “That better be you. I’m too tired to fight off would-be robbers.”

Lucas chuckles. “Just me,” he calls back. “Save your heroics for another day.”

“You’re fucking late, man.”

Lucas walks into the living room and plops himself down next to Yann on the couch. “I know, sorry. Was just a weird night.”

“Mmm,” Yann acknowledges, sunken into the couch and observing Lucas with sleepy eyes. “Any luck finding a job?”

Lucas shakes his head. “Got distracted.”

Yann hums. “Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but this was in the mail.” He hands over a letter to Lucas – make that a bill. Lucas cringes as he sees the seal of the return address, Haddon House. _Fuck_. How is it the end of the month, already? He slaps a hand over his eyes, rubbing at his temples with a groan. “I can help you out,” Yann continues. “Until you figure it out. I can loan you the cash.”

“No, you can’t.” Lucas turns to look him with a small smile. “Thanks. But it’s no good if both of us end up homeless. Where the fuck would I crash then?”

Yann returns his smile, a little sad. “Even if you can find work around here, Lucas, it’s not going to be enough.”

“I’m not moving her, Yann.” He won’t allow it to happen. His mom is well, happy even, and cared for at Haddon House. Even if Lucas could find her a spot in a fully funded facility, there’s no way he could rest easy in the quality of care. He won’t do that to her. Not again. He won’t.

“I know,” Yann sighs. “I get it, ok? I want her properly cared for as well. You know that.” Lucas does know. He drops his eyes to his hands in his lap and nods. “There’s another option.”

Lucas looks up at him curiously. “What? You got a rich uncle for me to marry or something? As long as he’s got your looks, I’m down.”

Yann laughs. “Sorry. No rich uncles.”

Lucas sighs. “Pity.”

“But there’s a job…” Yann trails off, looking at Lucas nervously.

“What? You been holding out on me?” Lucas sits up, turning to face him fully on the couch.

“No, no. It literally just came up today. It’s a good one. The pay isn’t amazing, but it’ll be enough. Way better than anything you’ve been making before. And you can just stay with me until you’re back on your feet.”

Lucas squints his eyes at him suspiciously. “Why do you look so nervous? That sounds perfect.”

“It’s just – it’s maybe not going to be your idea of a dream job.” Yann purses his lips as he looks at Lucas.

“Since when am I hoping for a dream job? What the fuck, Yann.” He laughs a little. “What is it?”

“It’s a mechanic position. They’ve got a big collection of cars. A lot of them old collector’s items. Antiques.” Yann pauses, gauging Lucas’s reaction.

“Ok… again… that sounds fucking perfect. You know that’s what I’m about. What are you not telling me?” Lucas watches him carefully.

“It’s at the Palace, Lucas,” Yann admits. Well _fuck_. “I know how much you love the Royal Family.” Sarcasm is rich in Yann’s voice. “I’ve never gotten your issue with them, but this isn’t the sort of job where you’d get away with bad mouthing them.”

“Yeah. No shit, Yann.” Lucas rolls his eyes with a huff.

“Lucas,” Yann begins, more sympathetically this time, “it’s really not an opportunity you can pass up.”

“Pass up?” Lucas scoffs. “You’re talking like I have the job. They’re not going to hire me.”

“They will if I recommend you.”

“What – just your word? They think that highly of you?” Lucas teases. He knows they love Yann, trust Yann. But the thought of Yann putting his neck out for Lucas like this…

“Well they’ll do a background check,” Yann concedes. “Thankfully your rogue ways don’t actually have a record.”

Lucas scoffs. “Lucky me.”

“This’ll work, Lucas,” Yann pleads reaching forwards and squeezing Lucas’s forearm where he’s crossed them pressed to his chest. “The cars were the King’s pride and joy. The Queen couldn’t care less for them, but she makes sure they’re looked after. The old mechanic, Victor, retired. He’d been with them for an age. She won’t care who replaces him so long as things as things are cared for. I think you’d be left alone for the most part. As long as you could get by without insulting any of them to their faces – or the other staff – it could work. With my word and Arthur as Head of Household, you _know_ you could have this locked down if you want it.”

“Alright, alright,” Lucas concedes. “You’ve made your case.”

Yann’s eyebrows jump in surprise. “Yeah?”

“ _If_ they’re willing to take me on,” Lucas stipulates with authority. “And if they are… I promise I won’t fuck it up, Yann. Not with you putting your neck on the line. I’ll be on my best behaviour. Promise.”

Yann laughs, patting Lucas on the shoulder. “Lucas I’ve known you for what? Eight years now?” Since they were sixteen. “I don’t think you and best behaviour are two thoughts I’ve ever put together.” Well, Yann’s got him there. “Just do your job, yeah? That’s all.”

Lucas nods with a smile. “Man… this was your plan all along wasn’t it? Get us working in the same place?”

“Oh yeah. I started working on Victor the second I started. Took a good six years but I finally got ‘im!” They both laugh. Yann began at the Palace as a Chef’s apprentice at eighteen. He’d devoted his life to the job, spending endless hours learning the trade and needs of the Palace until he’d been promoted to Second Chef at twenty-two. And finally, as of two months ago, Head Chef at twenty-four. Well… if only temporarily as the Head Chef had taken a six-month term in America. But Lucas knew Yann would prove his worth. “God. Bas and Arthur will lose their shit.”

“You think the Palace can handle all that greatness in one place?” Lucas laughs.

“Oh, definitely not,” Yann laughs in reply. “They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Lucas settles more deeply into the couch, slumping into Yann’s side in a not entirely subtle hint that he wants to be cuddled. Yann appeases him with an arm around his shoulder as they both turn their attention to the television.

“Thanks Yann.”

Yann squeezes his shoulder. “Of course. We’ll get shit sorted tomorrow, ok?”

Lucas hums in affirmation. Tomorrow. The Palace. And maybe the Prince. Again. What a weird fucking day.

* * * *

In fact, it takes more than a couple days to ‘get shit sorted’. It helps that Arthur is able to seamlessly expedite the process, but it’s not until a full week later that Lucas finds himself standing inside an extravagant hallway leading from one of the many back entrances into the main floor of the Palace. Paintings line the walls. Lucas, even with his limited knowledge of art, is fairly sure he recognizes some. This is so much more than any one family needs, he thinks spitefully. This grandiose hallway, the enormous Palace itself, the sprawling grounds, the art any Museum would salivate to showcase… it’s all just so… unnecessary. No one family should hoard such wealth when citizens in the same city huddle around fires without proper beds to sleep in or enough money to buy food to fill their stomachs.

 _You’re not here to judge._ Those had been Yann’s parting words before he’d left Lucas to await Arthur. That and: _Think what you want but keep it to yourself. At least within these walls._ It’s good advice. Lucas just isn’t quite used to censoring himself and while it had resulted in him being fired from a number of jobs in the past, Lucas harbors no regret in remembering. He’d caught his last boss propositioning one of the servers – sexual favours for better hours – and the asshole had deserved the tongue-lashing Lucas had given him. The punch he’d administered had maybe taken things a step too far, but Lucas still didn’t regret a thing. The prick deserved it.

“Oh!” A soft voice interrupts his bitter musings and he turns towards it.

Eliott’s sister – the Princess, Lucas reminds himself. The _Princess_ stands at a corner leading into the hallway, clearly surprised to run into anyone here, never mind someone she doesn’t recognize.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, approaching Lucas quietly. “I didn’t expect to see anyone here.” Her eyes dart around them, clearly checking the space for anyone else.

“Are you sneaking out?” The question is out, amusement colouring his tone, before Lucas can think to smother it.

“What?!” She gasps surprised, her cheeks flushing pink. “No! No, I –” She pauses, eyeing Lucas warily before her shoulders slump in something like defeat. “Ok maybe I’m slipping out… unseen.”

Lucas grins. “Oh yes. Totally different thing. My apologies, Princess.”

Her nose scrunches at the sound of her title. “Oh gosh. Please just call me Manon.” She reaches forward a hand in introduction.

Lucas clasps her hand in his own, giving it a firm shake before speaking again. “Aren’t I supposed to curtsy or something? I didn’t think handshakes were a thing with Princesses.”

She giggles. “Bow actually.” Which Lucas knew of course but it was worth it for the humour relaxing her posture. “But I prefer a handshake.”

“Well good. Me too. Never was much for bowing.” He smiles as she laughs once more.

“You never introduced yourself though,” she points out. “Handshakes are one thing but I’m afraid I can’t overlook that.”

“Lucas,” he smiles. “Apparently your new mechanic. Or so I hope. I’m just waiting on Arthur to bring the paperwork, then it’s all official, I guess.”

Manon nods with a smile. “Well congratulations on the position in that case.” Lucas offers what he hopes is a grateful smile. “Oh,” she adds, “and we don’t call the position mechanic. It’s Curator of Vehicles.”

“You have to be shitting me,” he scoffs, and no one could blame him for the way his eyes briefly roll to the back of his head. _No one._

Manon outright laughs now before she quiets herself with a hand pressed to her mouth. “You haven’t worked in this sort of position before have you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Lucas smirks. “What about me doesn’t look the part?” He spreads his arms wide with a grin. He knows what he must look like standing across from Manon, in her perfect skirt and sweater, her hair impeccably styled, and makeup flawless. It’s not that he hadn’t made a slight effort. But it had been made clear to him he would not be meeting the Queen and would rarely be venturing outside of the garage – casual was acceptable attire. But standing in his black slacks, t-shirt, and worn jacket, he’s exceptionally aware of the contrast he makes compared to the delicate perfection that is the Princess.

“I think you look exceptionally handsome,” she smiles at him kindly. Lucas has to say, he’s finding it incredibly inconvenient that he’s enjoying her company so immensely. Hating the Royal Family becomes much more challenging when multiple members of said family feel the need to be so damn… nice. _Ugh_. “Oh dear,” she suddenly exclaims looking behind him. Lucas glances back quickly to see what’s she’s spotted. It looks to be… Idriss? Standing outside. He hasn’t seen them, standing just to the side of the back entrance looking at his watch anxiously. “I’m afraid I’ve been chatting too long. Would you please excuse me?”

“Oh yes,” Lucas gestures for her to pass, “please be my guest.”

“Lucas,” she pauses, and he looks back towards her, “would you mind perhaps not mentioning that you’ve seen me? Unless that makes you uncomfortable that is.”

He chuckles. “You came to the right place, Princess. My lips are sealed.” She smiles. “You’re not getting yourself into any trouble though, right?” Lucas suddenly considers. “I would rather not get myself hanged on the first day.”

She laughs lightly. “No. I promise. I’m just going to the Food Bank. I’m afraid it’s something my mother wouldn’t approve of.”

“Feeding the hungry?” He asks incredulous.

“Her only daughter ‘dirtying’ herself in such a place,” Manon explains, and Lucas can hear the bitterness saturating her tone.

“I’m sorry. That sucks.” Lucas knows it’s inadequate but he’s honestly not sure how to even begin with an appropriate response to such a statement. “How do you keep that under wraps though? Surely there’s a risk someone could recognize you?” She certainly hasn’t made any attempt at disguise. Her brother’s hooded look may have been ridiculous, but it had been an attempt. Manon on the other hand looks every bit her position.

“Oh, I only work in the back office. I help with their paperwork and accounting. Those I work with are very discreet. I’d like to help serve the food but…”

Lucas understands. The Prince and Princess have become slightly better known in recent years. Not widely recognized but no longer anonymous. For many years they’d remained largely invisible due to the Royal family’s ardent and effective demands for privacy. No pictures were ever officially released of the beautiful Royal twins. While the public salivated over any news of them, a combination of privacy laws and the family’s lack of cooperation with local media meant the demand went unanswered. It hadn’t lasted of course, too dependent as the situation was on the loyalty of all those in contact with the twins, and pictures had begun leaking of them as teens. The family had reacted fiercely, suing all publications that dared print the unauthorized photographs. In the end the frenzy over the twins hadn’t been worth the potential ramifications and more importantly, cost. And so, they both still enjoyed a great deal of obscurity. But it is a digital age and the pictures are out there, if you’re motivated to find them. Lucas doubts anyone would make a scene at the Food Bank even if someone did recognize Manon, but if they did… a Princess serving food to the homeless and in need? Word would undoubtedly spread like wildfire and it’s a story the papers would trip over one another to report.

“Anyways, I suppose I’ll see you around then?” Manon asks smiling sweetly.

Lucas smiles. “I hope so.”

She waves a goodbye before she trots elegantly down the hall and out the back door. Lucas watches as she skips down the steps until she’s in front of Idriss who watches her approach with a gentle smile. They briefly speak before moving off together.

“Who’s your best friend?” He hears Arthur call from behind him.

“Yann Cazas,” he replies before turning.

“Ohhh. Right to my face?” Arthur laughs. “After I just secured you a job at the Palace? You might want to rethink that approach.”

“Why?” Lucas grins. “You just said the job is as good as mine. What do I need you for now?”

“Don’t test my power, young grasshopper. I put you in this world. I can take you out just as easily.” He clenches a raised fist in Lucas’s direction as he approaches.

Lucas rolls his eyes. “You forget you’ve complained to all of us on too many occasions of your total lack of power in this position.”

“Ssshhh,” Arthur glances around them warily as he comes to stop in front of Lucas. “You can never be sure who’s listening in this place.

“You literally know every single person who works here,” Lucas raises an eyebrow. “You saying they’re not loyal to you?”

“They’re loyal to their paycheque,” Arthur replies. “And I don’t blame them.”

Well, Lucas certainly understands the draw of a paycheque. He still wouldn’t backstab a friend for one. “Watch myself and trust no one,” Lucas nods. “Got it.”

“You can trust me,” Arthur links an arm with him, pulling him towards a separate hall leading from the back door. “Others though – like that Yann Cazas – I wouldn’t trust him further than I could throw him. I’m available though, if you’re looking for a new best friend.”

Lucas laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

* * * *

“They call this a _garage_?!!!” Lucas gasps as they enter a coliseum sized… Lucas isn’t even sure what to call it… luxurious warehouse? Museum? All he knows is he’s never in his life seen a ‘garage’ that looks like this. The space is split in two, one area set up as a sort of showcase of a couple of the prize vehicles. Placed under carefully curated track lighting they gleam, perfectly polished, not a speck of dust to be found. The second space is more utilitarian, though Lucas uses the term lightly. In no way does it look like any sort of working space he’s seen. The cement floors shine, a separate office-like room off to the side seems to hold tools and Lucas is willing to bet they sparkle just as perfectly. Rigging hangs from the roof on one side of the room, available to raise vehicles for inspection but none of the vehicles sit anywhere near it. Those not on display are set in lines within the second space. A Bentley, a couple Aston Martins, a Rolls Royce Lucas would likely place from the 70s, a couple Jags, a vintage Chevy corvette, a Porsche 911, it goes on and on… and, if Lucas is correct, there’s a Ford Model T in the back corner. He doesn’t know where to look first. Lucas has never seen all these cars in one space. They look untouched. In no way does this look like a working garage. Lucas has a sudden sneaking suspicion the superficial aesthetics of the cars may be hiding the fact they haven’t actually been properly cared for.

“What’d you expect?” Arthur laughs lightly. “An exhaust-filled shack? Oil stains and grease covered men sweating under every car?”

Lucas smirks. “We still talking about work? Or do you have something to tell me about your porn preferences?”

“Fuck off!” Arthur laughs. “We both know whose porn preference that would fall under and it isn’t mine.”

“I appreciate a good greasy mechanic in porn I admit. But then I think about the guys I’ve worked with and honestly, it ruins the fantasy.” He shudders at the thought.

“True,” Arthur adds, “you’re more about the pretty boys, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” Lucas points a threatening finger towards Arthur in jest. “I can’t help it if the pretty boys find me, now can I? I’m just appreciating opportunities that come my way.” Arthur scoffs. “And even more importantly, let it be known I am a car mechanic and _also_ extremely pretty. So, let’s not go lumping all car mechanics into one pot-bellied, hairy category, yes?”

“Tom?” Arthur asks.

“Tom,” Lucas confirms that was indeed exactly who he was picturing with that particular description.

Arthur’s phone buzzes. “Shit.” He looks to the screen. “Sorry, man. I gotta get back.”

“Uh ok.” Lucas isn’t about to argue when he knows Arthur’s time is valuable and he’s likely being pulled in any number of directions at any given time. But also… Lucas has literally only seen the garage. He has no idea where anything else is – what’s off limits, what additional expectations there might be. He’s completely flying blind.

Arthur must read the anxiety on his face. He seems to hesitate for a moment before grabbing Lucas’s arm and pulling him along, “C’mon. I’ll find someone else to give you the tour.”

“Oh sure – foist me off on some unsuspecting.” In truth Lucas would rather fumble through figuring the way of things versus inconveniencing someone else who’s bound to resent the imposition.

“It’ll be fine,” Arthur offers unconcerned as he drags Lucas into the hallway leading from the garage. From what Lucas has been able to tell, this hallway runs along the back of the Palace and leads to most of the ‘working’ areas of the building. From the little he’s seen there are a number of offices, the kitchen he knows is at the far end though he hasn’t been to see it yet, the garage of course, and any number of supply closets, as well as the hallways that branch leading into the main area of the Palace.

“Chloe!” Arthur calls suddenly spotting a young woman coming back into the hallway from one such supply closet. She’s in the uniform of what Lucas believes is the housekeepers. She stops at the sound of her name and turns towards them with a smile. “Chloe, I’m so sorry to interrupt you in your duties,” Arthur begins as they come towards her. Lucas shuffles himself slightly behind Arthur, already feeling horribly awkward. “This is –” Arthur goes to gesture to Lucas only to realize Lucas has somewhat effectively hid himself and with a sigh Arthur turns and pulls Lucas out to stand beside him. “This is Lucas. He’s just taken over for Victor. I’ve got to get back to the office. Would you be able to give him the tour? Give him the scoop and whatnot?”

“I really don’t want to be a bother,” Lucas adds, nearly cringing at how obviously uncomfortable he sounds.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind at all.” Chloe smiles at Lucas.

It’s the confirmation Arthur needs and with a “Great! Thank you!” He dashes back down the hall without a backwards glance.

Lucas looks back to Chloe. “You really don’t have to if you’re busy or –”

“No, no,” she cuts him off. “I don’t mind. Truly. I could use the distraction. Chloe.” She offers her hand which Lucas tentatively takes in his own, shaking in greeting.

“Like he said – Lucas.”

“Nice to meet you.” She turns and motions for him to join her as they move down the hall. She seems friendly enough and genuinely doesn’t seem off-put by suddenly having the responsibility of Lucas thrown onto her. Lucas tries to let himself relax. He’s never dealt well with feeling like a burden. “Um well,” she begins, “I assume you’ve seen the garage then?”

“The _garage_. Right. Yeah I’ve seen it.”

Chloe correctly reads his tone and laughs lightly. “I know. It’s ridiculous. I couldn’t even dream of having a home that big – never mind a place to store my many, _many_ luxurious cars.”

“This is a different planet, that’s for sure,” Lucas acknowledges. “I’m guessing you don’t come from this world either, then?”

She shakes her head in confirmation. “No. I’m from Vaujany.” At Lucas’s questioning look she continues, “I know. It’s a tiny ski town in the southeast. My parents are still there. I came here for better opportunity. There was nothing there for me. Though I’m not sure how much there is for me here either now.” Lucas can feel the incredibly heavy sadness hanging on every word.

Lucas hums in understanding. “Yeah. I get it.”

She smiles at him, melancholy hanging heavy in her eyes, before she physically shakes herself out of it. It’s like watching someone slip back on a mask – it’s a ritual Lucas recognizes. He won’t call her out on it. “So, here’s the gym,” she says brightly, gesturing towards an alcove leading to… wow, a full gym.

“This is for… us? Staff?” He asks awe-struck as he moves forwards to look through the large glass window on the door leading to the space. There’s the usual cardio equipment, free weights, a few machines, and… punching bags and mats. Lucas can’t believe his luck.

“Yes,” she answers. “Or well, it’s for the family too but none of them use it. Except the Prince sometimes when he’s training with Idriss. But mostly it’s just us.”

“That’s incredible,” he smiles. He can’t quite disguise his enthusiasm and allows himself, just for a moment, to feel a thrill of excitement run through his body. Maybe this job really won’t be so bad. He turns back to Chloe. “Idriss works out a lot then?” He already knows the answer – he’s seen Idriss for himself after all – but he’s curious what the staff’s impression of him will be.

“Oh yeah,” Chloe laughs. “All the boxing stuff is for him. The Prince got it all for him a while back as a surprise. I think he’s the only one who uses it. But yah he’s like…” She moves a hand to indicate large muscles bulging from her bicep and assumes a position Lucas imagines is supposed to be some sort of muscleman pose. He laughs and she relaxes her stance, laughing along with him.

“You sure it’s not you in there working on that pure muscle?” He teases.

“That’s just my natural physique,” she slaps a bicep and it makes Lucas laugh again. “Come on,” she turns, still laughing a little, and leads him down another hall. Branching off from the back hall, this one leads towards the center of the house. Lucas follows, a little more cautiously now. “Generally, you won’t go into the main area of the Palace unless you’re beckoned. The family is very protective of their privacy. It’s important to know where you are allowed and what is entirely off-limits.”

Lucas nods, listening closely. He’s never been one for rules but in this case, he plans to make an exception. Pissing off a shitty bar manager is one thing, pissing off the Queen… well that would be something else entirely.

Chloe continues, “There is a library.” She smiles looking back at him briefly. We are allowed there. You’re just not allowed to remove any books without permission. It’s incredible though.”

Lucas nods. He used to love to read. These days it feels like a luxury he just doesn’t have the time for. Maybe – maybe if things work out here, he’ll be able to relax, to read again.

“Where’s totally off-limits then?” He asks curiously.

“Mmm… the living quarters mostly. I’m up there of course but you wouldn’t have reason to be. The Prince and Princess have their own wing. The Queen lives on the other end of the Palace but the main second floor corridor connects both wings.”

“So basically, stay off the second floor then.”

“That’s probably a good rule of thumb,” she admits. “I don’t even feel entirely comfortable up there and it’s my job.”

As they continue down the hallway she points out a few other areas of interest: the pool (staff are _not_ allowed the enjoyment of this facility), a reading room, a “smoking room” (though no one in fact smokes in said room – a relic of a bygone era), a bathroom, an attached “vanity” room… just an endless amount of unnecessary rooms and frivolous additions. It’s as they reach the end of the hallway, raised voices become clear.

Chloe pauses listening for a moment. She motions for Lucas to stay quiet and creeps up to the end of the hall. Lucas follows silently. It opens to a large foyer of sorts, an open central area of the Palace that branches off in every direction. On one side of the room is an enormous double sweeping staircase leading to the second level. A sparkling chandelier hangs from the roof in the center of the room and beneath it… Eliott. Lucas sucks in a breath at the sight of him. He’s standing across from an older irate looking woman – the Queen. Even if he hadn’t recognized her face, her manner of dress and the very way she holds herself wold be giveaway enough. She looks very clearly like someone who is not used to being told no. And in this moment Lucas feels fairly confident in assuming that’s exactly what Eliott has just done.

It’s entirely inappropriate to be eavesdropping on this conversation. But Chloe has placed herself closely up against the wall peering out at the two, and Lucas is not one to turn down an opportunity to know other people’s business. He doesn’t think this breaks any of the rules laid out by Arthur – eavesdropping was definitely not covered. That’s Lucas’s story and he’s sticking to it. He presses up against Chloe’s shoulder, positioning himself as to better see the arguing pair while remaining out of sight himself. Chloe jumps for a moment as though just remembering Lucas is with her before recognizing his own interest in the proceedings and turning back to listen.

“Darling, you are being unreasonable, and this is not a discussion I am interested in continuing. Not with you in this state.” The Queen is perfectly calm as she speaks. Nevertheless, her disappointment fills the room like a toxic fog, clouding Lucas’s own vision of the scene, making his breath come short.

“You’re acting like this is coming out of nowhere. It isn’t!” Eliott gestures wildly but his hands are shaking as he does so. It doesn’t surprise Lucas in the least that Eliott would be demonstrative when upset – all flailing arms and expressive hands. “I’ve been more than clear. More than fair.”

“This isn’t about fairness, Eliott,” the Queen interrupts. “This is your duty. This is what has been decided. And it’s a wonderful arrangement. I cannot understand your obstinance.”

“Mother,” it sounds very much like an insult the way Eliott says it, “you know precisely why I won’t agree to this. I’m in love with someone else. I’m not marrying her.”

“Lucille is a wonderful girl.” Her tone has changed. She no longer sounds like she’s engaging in a conversation. This has clearly become a lecture and she will not be requesting feedback. “You have known her all your life. You were together for years –”

“We were thirteen! We were children!” Eliott interrupts.

The Queen continues as though he hasn’t spoken, “You couldn’t ask for a better marriage. This is important to far more persons than yourself. You would do well to remember that.”

“And forget how I feel?! Not all of us are without emotion, Mother.” Eliott’s jaw clenches in defiance and he stands proud, straightening his posture and in doing so, exaggerating his height.

But his mother too is a tall, proud woman. And she has clearly hit the limit of what she will tolerate. “I will not hear this nonsense any further. We are done speaking about this, Eliott.” He attempts to interrupt but she cuts him off with a hand hovering in the air in front of them. “Enough! I will not stand here arguing with my son for all to hear.” Goosebumps rise on Lucas’s skin. But there’s no way they’d be speaking so bluntly should they be aware of Chloe and Lucas eavesdropping. It’s likely a more general remark regarding the lack of privacy in a space accessible to anyone in the Palace. “This is not how we behave. And this has never been a discussion. It is what will be. That is final.”

She waits for no refutation from Eliott, turning and marching off, thankfully in a direction exact opposite of where Chloe and Lucas remain. Lucas watches as Eliott’s shoulders slump and his head sags, as though all conviction and strength has immediately drained from him. It’s a terrible, despairing sight. Lucas would swear the scene transforms before his eyes, from a vibrant, brightly lit space to something else entirely. As though the entire room had suddenly been painted in a darker palette. He wonders if it looks the same for Eliott.

Chloe suddenly moves, forcing Lucas back a step as she turns towards him. To his surprise there are tears trailing down her face. She dips her head, casting her eyes to the floor, and raises a hand in an attempt to subtly wipe them. Lucas reaches towards her, but she quickly pushes him back, indicating that they walk back from where they’d come. Lucas does as instructed, glancing occasionally in her direction to see that she has not yet managed to get her tears under control.

Once they’ve reached the back hallway, he stops her when a gentle hand to her forearm. “Chloe,” he turns her to face him, hands on either of her shoulders, “what is going on? Are you ok?”

Initially she doesn’t manage much more than a shake of her head, more tears streaking down her face and she sniffles miserably. A few more measuring breaths and she speaks. “I’m sorry. I –” As though she’s suddenly noticed where they are, she glances around them quickly, ensuring no one else has entered the hall. “I need to go. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Lucas shrugs. He’s so in over his head. He doesn’t understand what the hell is happening or why Chloe is so affected by what they just saw. Does she have feelings for the Prince?

She looks up at him and attempts a small smile. It reflects nothing but the misery in her eyes. “I promise I’ll give you a proper tour another time.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lucas releases her with a slight squeeze to her shoulders.

She turns and hurries down the hall, disappearing down a different hallway and Lucas is coming to realize these back corridors of the Palace are a bit of a labyrinth.

He sighs. _What the fuck just happened?_

* * * *

It’s not an official workday for Lucas and as such he has no tasked duties. Official work will not begin until tomorrow with today serving as a sort of orientation. And what an orientation it’s been. The Prince is engaged. _Eliott_ is to marry. And he’s clearly not thrilled about it. Because apparently, he’s already in love. And not with his selected bride. And then there’s whatever is going on with Chloe. And while Lucas might enjoy being privy to the business of others and the power it has afforded him in the right moments, in this case he can’t help but feel this knowledge will end up being more trouble than it’s worth.

Despite no clear tasks in need of completing, Lucas spends a bit more time in the garage, inspecting the cars and familiarizing himself with the space. He finds what he supposes amounted to a filing system inside a desk in the back-office space. It’s a mess, no semblance of order, no clear record of the work completed on the cars. Lucas is going to have his work cut out for him. He’s sure his original suspicion was correct now. One of the first things he’d been told was that a number of these cars were to be showcased at a Ball the Palace is hosting in just a few weeks. That Victor chose to retire now suddenly seems suspiciously coincidental. Lucas imagines getting even a few of these cars in working order in time for the Ball will be an arduous task. But then, Lucas would rather have a challenge set out before him. There’s nothing worse than being bored. And he’s good at what he does.

It’s late afternoon by the time he makes his way towards the kitchen. He’s starving, having eaten nothing but the cereal Yann left him on the breakfast table this morning, but he’s certainly faced far greater bouts of hunger. Having had no one mention anything about breaks or meals he’s not sure what to conclude with regards to such matters. But it’s about time for Yann to get off work, having worked the earlier shift, and Lucas had promised to meet him come the end of the day.

When he walks through the double doors at the end of the hallway and into the kitchen it’s about the sort of ordered chaos he would expect of any back kitchen, only at least three times the size of any kitchen he’s ever seen. And of course, this particular kitchen is state-of-the-art compared to the rundown bar kitchens he’s used to seeing. He immediately recognizes Emma, currently Second Chef and Yann’s relief for the evening, having met her when she and Yann dated briefly a few years back. They’d realized they worked far better as friends and thankfully, considering their need to work closely together, they’d remained close over the years. She’s since been dating Alex, her sous-chef, who Lucas has also had the pleasure of meeting during the groups many trips to the bar together, and who currently stands chopping vegetables.

Lucas’s presence doesn’t seem to have been noticed and he scans the space, taking in the other kitchen staff until his eyes land on the boys. Yann and Bas sit together with Daphne at a bench table to the back of the kitchen, a large window next to them looks out to the back courtyard. He smiles and makes his way over but it’s Emma’s voice that announces his presence before he’s able to do so.

“Lucas! Shit!!! I heard you were joining our gang!”

Lucas turns to look towards her and laughs as he sees her running towards him. She hasn’t put down the knife she was using and if it was anyone else charging towards him with a knife, Lucas might be concerned. As it is, he’s more worried she’ll trip and impale herself on the way than he is for his own safety.

“Emma! Knife!” Alex yells before she’s reached Lucas.

She freezes for a moment, noticing the large butcher knife in her hand as if for the first time. “Oh.” She turns towards Alex. “Take it.” And _she throws it across the kitchen towards him_. Lucas would shout in warning if it weren’t for the fact that surprise has robbed him of breath. As Lucas watches with panicked eyes, Alex catches the knife’s handle as though this is a common occurrence. Placing it down on the counter beside him and returning to his task. And Lucas realizes, maybe this is a common occurrence. None of the kitchen staff even flinched. Lucas’s frozen shock is only broken by Emma throwing herself into his arms. He jumps slightly at the sudden contact before returning the hug, gripping her tightly to him. He’s always liked Emma. She’s a bit of a wild spirit, just teetering on the edge of unstable, and as such, she and Lucas always connected.

“Hey Em,” he greets into her shoulder.

She pulls back with a grin, ruffling his hair. He quickly bats her hand away. She knows he doesn’t like people touching his hair and insists on trying every time she sees him. “Good to see you, buddy. Shit we’re gonna have some fun!” She laughs and Lucas can’t help but join in. It’s a really good thing they’re not working anywhere near one another. The two of them working together would result in nothing good he knows.

“Emma,” Alex calls again and she turns to look at him, keeping one arm wrapped around Lucas’s shoulders. Some sort of unspoken communication occurs where Alex motions towards a series of pots sitting on the stove, something he’s chopping, the meat Emma was preparing, and his watch.

“Right,” she agrees as Lucas looks on perplexed. “Gotta go, kid. Catch ya later.” With a final ruffle of his head she runs back across the kitchen. She’s like a summer storm, all energy and excitement, and gone as quickly as she came.

Lucas shakes his head with a chuckle and turns to complete his trek across the kitchen to the boys. Both Yann and Bas are smiling at his as he approaches. In fact, Lucas can feel more than just their eyes on him, Emma having announced his presence to the kitchen, but he ignores the rest, focusing on his friends.

“Boys,” he greets bumping fists with Yann and smacking the side of Bas’s head when Bas attempts to do the same. “Daphy.” He smiles at Daphne who sits beside Bas. Lucas will never entirely understand how Bas managed to get Daphne to date him. Never mind for over a year now. Upon reflecting on it with Yann one drunken evening they’d decided it was a combination of Bas’s worshipful attitude towards her and persistence over time. There’s a chance of course she truly loves him, as Bas does her. And certainly, the way they look at one another is evidence of that fact. But Lucas much prefers the idea Bas simply wore her down. It’s far more fun to get Bas riled up by saying as much.

“How’d the day go, bro?” Yann asks clapping him on the shoulder when Lucas slumps into the bench beside him.

“Fine, I guess.” Lucas glances around them for a moment, remembering Arthur’s warning to watch what he says here. He lowers his voice a little so as not to carry beyond their table. “To be honest I’m going to have my work cut out for me. I’m not sure how much Victor actually did. Like – I’m pretty sure none of those cars are in working condition right now.”

“Shit really?” Yann says with a shake of his head. “Fuck maybe that’s why he retired right before the Ball? He knew he couldn’t get the cars ready by then.”

“That’s totally why he retired,” Basile contributes. “I thought everyone knew that.” He shrugs unconcerned.

“It’s true,” Daphne adds with a conspiratorial whisper. “Everyone thinks the Queen knew. She only let him stay on because Elio- because the Prince was so close to him. I think both she and Victor knew he was going to end up humiliated though. So, she pushed him to retire and he was happy to take the out.”

“Mmm,” Bas mumbles where he’s just shoved a bunch of crackers in his mouth. “He should have been fired a long time ago. That’s what being tight with the Prince gets you though.” Crumbs rain down on the table from his mouth as he speaks, and Lucas wrinkles his nose in disgust. “He got paid to hang out with the cars and the Prince. Pretty sweet gig.”

“How do you know he was so close to the Prince?” Lucas asks.

“The Prince was always down there in the garage with him – any time he and his mother fought – or any time really,” Daphne explains. “He doesn’t really have friends aside from Idriss. And I think Victor was like a father to him. Or well,” she looks uncomfortable, “a second father?”

“A father figure, babe,” Bas adds and Daphne smiles at him in thank you. They all settle into silence as they contemplate what she’s said. Lucas is aware – well, everyone is aware – the King passed when the twins were still in infancy. They’d never had an opportunity to truly know him.

An uncomfortable feeling of guilt creeps across his skin like a rash. He shouldn’t be talking ill of the man Eliott found comfort in when his own father had never been available to him. No matter how much Victor might deserve to have his work ethic slandered. There’s other matters Lucas wants to discuss with them anyways.

“Speaking of the Prince,” he begins and is not unaware of the way Daphne’s head perks up as though she knows she’s about to receive gossip she hasn’t been privy to. “I may have overheard something I shouldn’t have today.”

“What does that mean?” Lucas looks next to him to see that Yann is already sporting a look of deep concern.

“A conversation between the Queen and her son,” Lucas says lowly. Yann immediately groans in obvious disapproval while Bas and Daphne gasp excitedly. “It wasn’t intentional,” Lucas defends glaring at Yann who now has a hand spread across his forehead rubbing at his temples. _Drama Queen_. “Chloe was showing me around and we sort of stumbled across them talking.”

“Well?!” Daphne demands. “What did you hear?”

“Um,” Lucas knows he can trust them. They’re his friends. But there’s something about speaking of Eliott like this – like fodder for entertainment – it doesn’t quite sit right with Lucas. Just the same, he _does_ want further context as to what he heard. “Well the Prince seemed quite unhappy about… an arrangement for him… made by the Queen?”

“Oh,” Daphne deflates looking disappointed, “you’re just talking about his arranged marriage? That’s old news, Lucas. They’ve been fighting about that for months. There’s no one in the Palace who doesn’t know about that.” Bas sits back next to Daphne nodding though he doesn’t look so much disappointed as he does smug that he’d know something Lucas didn’t. 

“Mmm it’s true,” Yann affirms. “ _Thankfully,”_ he emphasizes the word, clearly still in lecture mode when it comes to his disapproval of Lucas’s actions, “that wasn’t something particularly private you overheard.”

“Ok…” Lucas can’t say he much likes being behind the news. “Does someone want to explain the situation to me then?”

“We really shouldn’t be talking about this,” Yann objects. “This is a bad idea.”

Lucas channels the little patience he possesses and turns to Yann. “Bro, you all just said everyone knows. Everyone but me.” Yann nods reluctantly. “You think it’s better for me to go into this blind? I need to know what the fuck is going on in this place if I’m going to make it a day. _Obviously_. I was barely here a couple hours and basically fell into overhearing that conversation. I need to know what the fuck the deal is.”

Yann sighs and with a nod motions for Daphne to do what she does best: share the gossip. She looks delighted to suddenly have the attention of the table and preens slightly with a happy smile before she begins. “Ok so,” she looks at Lucas seriously with a gravity Lucas is sure the moment doesn’t require. But it’s Daphne and he absolutely expected as much, “you heard that the Prince is supposed to marry Lucille?” Lucas nods. “Lucille is the daughter of some important trade guy.”

“Trade guy?” Lucas can’t help but interrupts laughing.

Daphne sighs in annoyance. “Those details aren’t important, Lucas.” She says it with all the patience of a long-suffering mother. “All you need to know is he’s rich and important, and Lucille’s family and the Royal family have been close since the twins were babies.”

“The Queen mentioned El – the Prince and Lucille dated?” Lucas does his best to project only polite inquiry.

“Right,” Daphne nods pleased with Lucas’s efforts to engage in this gossip session. “They were just kids, but no one really understands their relationship now. Officially they’re not dating.”

“But unofficially?” Lucas asks.

Basile interjects far too loudly, “Unofficially she’s in the Prince’s quarters way too often for someone he’s not banging.”

“Basile!” Daphne hits his thigh unhappily. “I’m explaining.”

“Sorry, babe. Sorry.” He kisses her forehead and motions for her to continue.

She turns back to Lucas. “Well that _is_ accurate. She’s here a lot and has her own room next to the Prince’s so… well, no one is very clear on what their current relationship status is.” Lucas shifts uncomfortably. “What makes it really weird is that the Prince is apparently into someone else!” Daphne’s eyes widen and she pauses to ensure Lucas understands the salaciousness of such a scandal. “Anna heard the Prince say he’s in love!” This isn’t news to Lucas, having heard the same words from

Eliott himself. “And _not_ with a woman. He’s in love with a man!” Daphne pauses once more to allow all of them a moment to digest what an apparent scandal this is. It irks Lucas immediately.

“Why are you saying that like it’s the scandal of the century?” Lucas scoffs. “People are gay, Daphne.” He hears Yann attempt to muffle a laugh. “You’re looking at a prime example or have I not made that obvious enough?” Daphne opens her mouth to object, but Lucas continues before she can do so. “And he doesn’t have to be gay to love a man. There’s any number of ways he might identify.” The memory of Eliott coming out as pansexual suddenly burns bright in his mind’s eye. _I’ve never said it out loud before_. The memory ignites a protective instinct he never expected to be so ferociously directed Eliott’s way.

“Yes, thank you for the lecture, Lucas.” Daphne sighs in irritation. “But not everybody gets to live out and proud like you, ok?” Lucas forgets sometimes that ‘out and proud’ is the only way those sitting at this table have ever known him. “And it _is_ a scandal as far as the Queen is concerned. She won’t hear any of it and she and the Prince have been having absolute screaming matches where any number of staff have been able to hear! They haven’t taken any meals together in months and Anna said the last one ended with Eliott smashing his plate against the floor!” That sort of indiscretion would be highly scandalous within the Palace walls Lucas imagines. The conversation he overheard suddenly sounds tame in comparison.

“Jesus.” Lucas raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement that the situation is perhaps a bit more dramatic than he had allowed himself to believe. “Does anyone know who it is the Prince is apparently in love with?”

Basile and Daphne shake their heads simultaneously in clear disappointment as Daphne speaks again. “Eliott hasn’t been seen with anyone. That’s the thing! It’s so weird. Some of the girls think it has to be one of the foreign dignitaries – they’re always visiting. But I think,” she leans forward on the table and Lucas unbidden leans forward with her. Her voice drops to a mere whisper, “I think it’s the Italian Prince. He was here in the summer for like two months. You remember?” She’s directing the question at Yann, Basile having clearly already had this conversation with Daphne, and Lucas sees Yann nod his head before he speaks.

“Yeah. I liked him. He was really nice.”

“Well he and Eliott were glued at the hip the _entire_ time and he stayed in the same wing…” She trails off allowing them all to jump to whichever conclusions they please. Another Prince, Lucas thinks. It makes sense. That Eliott should fall for someone of the same social status. Someone like him. How it was always intended to be. That the Queen should object solely because the object of Eliott’s desire is a man is an unsurprising to Lucas as it is enraging. 

Lucas sits back, tilting his head back on the bench with a sigh as he thinks. He hears Yann speak, “Ok we’re officially gossiping about _two_ princes now. I think we should stop. You know how much shit we could get in for spreading gossip like this? Lucas can grasp enough of the situation now. And this shit makes me tense.”

Lucas chuckles, turning to look at Yann and bringing a hand up to the back of his friend’s head in a comforting sort of clasp. “When’d you become such a rule follower?”

“When I started working for the fucking Queen,” Yann retorts, shoving Lucas’s hand off him and pushing him to move from the bench. “Let’s get outta here. I’m fucking bagged. I want a shower and food I didn’t make.”

“Gentle. Gentle!” Lucas objects battling with Yann’s insistent hands. “I am to be treated with care!”

Yann laughs, his hands persisting until Lucas gives in and stands. “Sure. That’s why ‘harder, harder’ seems to be the only word you know when you bring guys home to fuck.” Basile cackles. Daphne can’t seem to help herself either and giggles along with him.

“Excuse me,” Lucas gasps scandalized. “I brought a guy back once. _Once_. And you weren’t supposed to be there. How’d I know that chick had dumped you the first chance she got?!” Yann and Lucas have an unspoken rule that should Yann find entertainment for the evening, Lucas is to find himself alternate arrangements for the night. In most cases it’s simply easiest that Lucas find a hook-up himself and go home with him. On the rare occasion however that Yann made plans to go home with his chosen partner (as was the case in this particular situation they’re reflecting upon), Lucas had Yann’s place to himself to do what he liked… and well, he’d taken advantage. “And for the record,” Lucas adds with a smirk, “it wasn’t me yelling that.”

“Hah! Yes man!” Basile raises his hand for a high-five and well… maybe just this once Lucas will entertain him. He slaps Bas’s hand as Yann groans.

“Why the fuck did I even bring this up? God, I thought I repressed that memory.” Yann stands and turns to Bas and Daphne. “You two meeting up with us later?”

Basile looks to Daphne who nods, answering for them both, “Sure. Just for a bit though – I don’t want to be out late tonight.”

“Cool,” Yann agrees easily. “Catch you guys later then.”

Everyone says their parting words and Yann steers Lucas to the door leading from the kitchen directly out to the back courtyard. They follow the walkway skirting the side of the Palace and Yann rambles about his day. There was some catastrophe with a quiche he allowed one of the newer cooks to help with. From what Lucas gathers, mistaking cayenne for paprika is _not_ a good thing. The staff parking lot is a distance behind the Palace, tucked out of sight behind the gardeners shed, and it’s unfortunately not until they’re standing next to Yann’s broken-down little car that Lucas remembers.

“Oh fuck.”

Yann looks up from where he’s battling the door lock. “What?”

Lucas sighs, looking back to the Palace. “I meant to bring the files from the desk. I wanted to go through some of the paperwork tonight to try to sort it in time for tomorrow.”

Yann smiles. “Look at you. What a little go-getter.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, “Shut up.”

“No, no, no,” Yann insists, “this is too good. Should we add ‘self-starter’ to your resume? I tell you, Lulu, ambition suits you.”

“Ok, you can fuck off now. I left it back in the garage. Give me a minute.”

“I’ll be here waiting just… so proud,” Yann mimes wiping a tear off his face with faux-emotion, and Lucas really isn’t sure why he keeps him around at all.

He throws Yann a kiss using a very choice finger before turning and running back to the Palace.

* * * *

Lucas organizes what he can into one large folder and shoves it into his bag. He has a moments consideration as to whether he’s allowed to take what amounts to Palace business off-site but then… the majority of what he’s found will likely be quite useless. It’s mostly Victor’s nearly illegible notes, and the rest only pertains to the original acquisition of the cars. He can’t imagine doing off with this information would result in an espionage charge. He chuckles at the thought.

The sharp sound of the door leading into the garage slamming shut pulls him from his internal musings. He moves to glance out the office door to see who might be venturing into this area and freezes in place. Eliott. He’s dressed more casually than he had been earlier in conversation with his mother. Crisp white button-up shirt has been replaced with a worn black sweater, perfectly pressed black slacks swapped for ripped jeans. His hair had been combed back but now stands on end, an artfully tousled mess about his head, as though he’d purposefully done so, ridding his look of any sense of propriety. He looks good. Somehow more himself, though Lucas isn’t sure how he could come to that assessment. _You don’t know him. Remember that._

Eliott hasn’t noticed he’s not alone. He wanders further into the space, hand gliding across the cars as he passes. He stops next to the Chevy corvette. It’s from the 60s. Lucas had been planning on starting with in fact. Not the most luxurious or show-stopping of cars by any means, but a diamond in the rough, clearly neglected and in desperate need of TLC. A challenge for sure. He watches as Eliott opens the passenger side of the car, hand petting the leather before he moves to get in, slumping down into the seat. Lucas could probably sneak out unnoticed now that Eliott is preoccupied and facing the other direction. He hadn’t planned on re-introducing himself to the Prince in this context until he absolutely had to. Running into him on not even his first official day of work was not on his agenda whatsoever. He watches as Eliott closes his eyes and tips his head back on the seat, his profile projects unhappiness, his jaw sharp and mouth turned down at the corner. 

“You know,” he calls out and watches as Eliott visibly jumps, swinging around to look in his direction, “you break it, you buy it.” He considers for a moment. “Wait. Does that still work if everything here is technically yours?” Lucas shrugs and approaches.

“Lucas?” Eliott’s voice is incredulous and he stares at Lucas with wide, disbelieving eyes. “What? How? What are you doing here?”

Lucas chuckles, opening the driver’s side door and sinking into the driver’s seat next to Eliott. “Don’t tell me you’re unhappy to see me, Princeling. You might just hurt my feelings.”

Eliott doesn’t move, all his muscles locked in place at the sight of Lucas, his mouth hanging open and it’s a few more moments of Lucas looking back unconcerned before Eliott manages to speak again. “Lucas,” he suddenly looks around frantically as though armed guard were going to descend on them at any minute, “you can’t be here. How did you get in?! Do you know how much trouble you could be in?”

Lucas laughs, Eliott’s panic far too amusing to respond in any other way. “You think I snuck in to see you?” Eliott’s forehead creases as he looks back to Lucas uncertain. “You think I broke into the Royal Palace just to… what? Say hi? You think you made that much of an impact, hm?”

“No, I –” A delicious flush has made its way to Eliott’s cheeks and he looks robbed of his previous surety. “I mean, I thought – just…” He sighs as though frustrated with himself as Lucas watches on amused. “If you’re not here to see me then why are you here?”

Lucas smiles, enjoying the discomfort of the Prince for an extended moment before he answers. “I’m here for these beauties of course.” He runs his fingers along the steering wheel, turning his head away from Eliott to caress the car. When he turns back to Eliott the distressed look hasn’t left the Prince’s face. In fact, he looks _more_ distressed if that were even possible.

“Lucas,” he whispers and with a furtive glance around them, he reaches forward to clasp Lucas’s forearm, “you can’t.” And now Lucas is confused, somehow having lost the thread of the conversation. _Can’t what?_ “The security here is – it’s state of the art. You’ll be caught.” _Oh._

“You think I’m here to _steal_?” He hates that he’s surprised by Eliott making such an assumption about him. People closer to him have held far worse opinions of him and yet… it burns. Like ice pressed to feverish skin. “Jesus. What did I do to have you thinking so highly of me? Was it that time I saved you from the angry street meat vendor? Or perhaps when I rescued your wallet from a pick-pocket.” He wrenches his arm out of Eliott’s hold and moves to get out of the car.

“Wait!” Eliott cries, reaching for him once more before he thinks better of it and pulls his hand back. “Wait. I didn’t mean – I just – you said you were here for the cars?”

Lucas laughs humorlessly. “To _work_ on them. Not to _steal_ them.” He turns back to face Eliott fully and the Prince’s face is a mask of upset. “You do know what work is don’t you? It’s this thing we have to do when public dollars aren’t funding our lavish lifestyle.”

Eliott doesn’t react to the implied insult, instead focusing on the information embedded beneath. “Work? You’re working here?”

Lucas taps his temple. “Now he’s got it. Yes, _Your Royal Highness_ , I work here.”

Eliott’s face scrunches in displeasure. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why?” Lucas questions, bitterness infusing his tone. “It’s what you are.”

“Because…” Misery overtakes Eliott’s face and it’s catching, seeping into Lucas as well. “I don’t want you to call me that. You know my name. Or – or you can call me those… those nicknames.” He looks up at Lucas tentatively before his eyes return to his hands in his lap. “I don’t want you to know me as that.”

Lucas let’s his shoulders relax, not realizing he’d tensed his upper body so aggressively. He leans back into the seat, resting the side of his head against it as he watches Eliott. “I don’t much like it either.”

Eliott looks up at him hopefully. “No?”

“Nah,” Lucas smiles a little crookedly. “You’re far too sassy for any sort of ‘Highness’ to suit.”

A smile bursts onto Eliott’s face, so sudden and vibrant it’s nearly blinding. “Takes sass to know sass.”

Lucas snorts. “Sassy I am not. Sharp and clever. That’s what I am.”

Eliott laughs, clearly delighted with the turn in conversation. “And what – I’m not sharp and clever?”

“Well,” Lucas looks at him ruefully, “your first thought was that I was here to steal priceless vehicles from a verifiable sealed and _armed_ fortress so…”

Eliott’s previous humour drains from him immediately. “I’m really sorry, Lucas. I don’t know why I thought that. It was stupid.”

Lucas does. Lucas _does_ know why he thought that. But it feels like more trouble than it’s worth to get into an argument over class differences and the fucked-up assumptions of those in positions of privilege and power. He shrugs instead.

“I mean if I was going to rob the Palace you really think I’d announce my plans to the Crown Prince?” He’s pleased when Eliott’s concerned furrow dissolves into a laugh.

“I mean… I would make an excellent accomplice.”

Lucas looks to him in amused surprise. “Is that so?”

“Mmhmm,” Eliott confirms with a serious nod of his head. “I know all the best escape routes. You forget we met after I’d snuck out of the Palace. I’m basically a ninja.”

Lucas snorts. “ _A ninja_. Right. A ninja who needed express permission to leave from his bodyguard.”

“I did not,” Eliott pouts. “Wait – you knew Idriss was my guard?”

Lucas expels a breath of amusement. “Sassling, he was one wrong step on my part away from ripping my head off at all times. Yeah, it was a little obvious he wasn’t your best friend.”

“But he is,” Eliott insists. “I mean he’s my guard, but he _is_ my best friend too. And I wouldn’t have let him hurt you.”

Lucas smiles charmed that Eliott should think he would be capable of preventing such violence if Idriss set his mind to it. “You’re trained in the art of street fighting then? Because Idriss sure as hell is.”

Eliott rolls his eyes. _Six_. “Idriss listens to me. He’s not just some dumb muscle-head.”

No, he definitely isn’t. Of that Lucas is certain. “I know. And that’s what makes him a thousand times more dangerous to a person like me.”

“A person like you?”

“Someone unfamiliar. Someone he hasn’t approved of.”

Eliott scoffs. “Idriss isn’t my parent. He doesn’t _approve_ of everyone I hang out with.” Lucas raises his eyebrows in clear disbelief of this statement. “He’s really cool. Honestly. You’d like him.”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Lucas allows.

“Right,” Eliott suddenly seems to remember what brought them here in the first place. “Were you serious about working here? In what capacity?”

“ _In what capacity_ ,” Lucas mocks. “Jesus, Princeling. You’re always one breath away from being the poshest bugger around, aren’t you?”

A blush quickly returns to Eliott’s cheeks and he bites his lip, clearly embarrassed. “Oh sorry. I know. I don’t realize when I do it. Ugh.” He shakes his head in disgust with himself. “It’s so pretentious. Sorry.”

“Alright, alright,” Lucas interrupts the self-flagellation happening before his eyes. “Stop apologizing. I didn’t say I hated it, did I?”

“You like it?” Eliott asks looking shocked and just a little delighted.

Lucas shrugs, looking away. “Anyways, I’m taking over for that Victor.”

“You are?!” Eliott’s gasps in surprise and it has Lucas looking back to him.

“You didn’t connect those dots? I said I was working here. I said it was about the cars. Victor just retired.” He shakes his head in faux disappointment. “You see this is why you’re a sasspup and not a sharp-pup.”

Eliott laughs and shoves Lucas’s shoulder. “I hadn’t been told. That’s all.” He sighs a little sitting back and looking out to the garage around them. “How did this even – how did this come to be?”

“Uh well,” Lucas shifts a little uncomfortably. It’s one thing to accept help from a friend. It feels a little different to admit the reason you got a job had nothing to do with merit – or well, it’s certainly not what got him in the door. “You know the Head Chef? Yann?”

Eliott nods. “Of course.”

“Well he’s a friend. And he knew there was an opening here so… he recommended me for the position. And um, well here I am.” Lucas hates that his nerves are likely showing and looks away from Eliott, turning to face forward in the car, out towards the shadowed garage.

“Oh.” Eliott sounds vaguely disappointed.

“I know what I’m doing though,” Lucas defends hotly looking towards Eliott. “It’s not like I’m unqualified. I grew up working on cars exactly like this. Practically from the moment I could hold a tool.”

“No. I’m sure.” Eliott quickly turns to face him as well. “I didn’t mean – I’m sure you’re good at what you do. I just thought you… um, it doesn’t matter. I’m happy you got the job.”

Lucas eyes him warily, not totally convinced of Eliott’s belief in his abilities. There’s nothing but sincerity written across Eliott’s face and Lucas let’s himself relax with a slight smile. “Well, I’m going to have my work cut out for me.”

“Really?” Eliott asks sounding genuinely surprised.

Lucas laughs. “Yes really. I don’t know what this Victor was doing but it wasn’t work. These cars are a mess from what I can tell, and the records are,” he flaps a hand at a loss for words to appropriately summarize the extent of such disorder, “also a mess.”

“Well maybe you just don’t understand his system,” Eliott responds and it’s immediately defensive. Lucas looks towards him to see that Eliott is looking back, his face a perfect picture of unhappiness. “Victor was a great mechanic.”

“You know that do you?” Lucas raises an eyebrow, just a little irritated himself now. “With all you know about the care of antique vehicles? Or because of all the time you spent down here chatting with him while he wasn’t doing his job?”

“That’s not fair!” Eliott bites back and he’s obviously angry now. “Victor worked for my father. I’ve known him my whole life.”

“Ok,” Lucas exhales and prays for patience. “And in that time how many people have been in here to inspect his work? To ensure the cars are being cared for as they should?”

“I don’t –” Eliott looks at a total loss. As though the thought of Victor being bad at his job was a far more devastating fact that it ever should be in Lucas’s eyes. “That doesn’t mean he was bad at his job.”

Lucas sighs. It suddenly feels as though he just told a child that not only is Santa not real, but he’s murdered that child’s entire family. “Ok listen,” Lucas speaks begrudgingly, “maybe he was really good at one time. I’m sure your father – I’m sure the King wouldn’t have kept him on otherwise right?” Eliott nods, looking up to meet Lucas’s eyes. He no longer looks angry, merely sad. And it’s somehow far, far worse. “Hey,” he hits Eliott’s thigh lightly with the back of his hand, “things’ll look up, Buttercup. I’ll manage. Life isn’t fair you know. Just fairer than death.”

“Well that’s morbid,” Eliott smiles. “And what’s with you and the ‘buttercup’ thing?”

“Oh no, no, no, that’s a reference you can figure out for yourself.” Lucas returns his smile.

The door to the garage suddenly slams open making them both jump in surprise.

“Lucas! What the fuck!” Yann yells entering the room. “I’ve been waiting out there forever. I swear to god if you got distracted staring at your own dick in here, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Lucas rolls his eyes, yelling back, “Staring at my dick is strictly alone time, Yann, you know that. No place for that at work. No matter how tempting.” He looks at Eliott who’s watching the proceedings with a grin. He sends him a quick wink before adding, “It’s a beautiful specimen after all.” Eliott huffs a slight laugh and rolls his eyes. _Seven_.

“The fuck are you doing in there?” Yann asks walking over and then freezing when he sees Eliott in the passenger seat. “Oh fuck! I mean – um, sorry. I didn’t realize – Sir. I mean, Your Royal Highness. I didn’t realize you were there. I apologize for my language.” Lucas snorts and Yann’s sends him a look that screams retribution later.

“Yann,” Eliott interrupts. “I’ve told you to call me Eliott. And it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Uh,” Yann is so clearly uncomfortable, Lucas is having a hard time not outright laughing at his expense. But then, he’d best not piss off the person offering him shelter every night, “right. Anyways, I was just coming back to find Lucas. We were on our way out.” Yann looks at Lucas and well that look clearly says ‘get your ass moving’.

Lucas coughs to hide the bout of laughter about to escape. “Right. I’m moving. The bar and free chips await.” He opens the car door, pushing Yann back in the process.

“Free chips,” Yann scoffs quietly. “We’ll see about that.”

Lucas ignores him – Yann always gives into his puppy-dog eyes eventually – and turns around to shut the car door, looking back to Eliott.

“You guys are going out?” Eliott asks.

“Yeah,” Lucas confirms. “Beer, snacks, hot guys. You know, the usual.” He wiggles an eyebrow.

“That sounds cool,” Eliott smiles but it’s small. Sadness is back in his eyes, weighing down his shoulders as he slumps lower in the car seat. It makes him look far smaller than he is. “Have fun.”

Lucas can’t help but wonder how many evenings Eliott has spent in this garage alone, caged by the very privilege Lucas’s has so swiftly judged him for – the privilege Eliott seems to flinch away from. “I guess I’ll be seeing you, Princeling.” Eliott nods and with one last smile his direction, Lucas turns and walks with Yann to the door.

“ _Princeling_?” Yann whispers and turns a judgmental look on Lucas. “What the fuck, Lucas?!”

Lucas grins and can’t help but turn to look back at Eliott whose eyes remain on their departing forms. He projects his voice and with a wink directed towards Eliott’s deflated figure in the car calls back, “It suits him. Sassiest little Princeling there ever was.”

Eliott’s face splits into a grin that has his eyes scrunching happily. It’s worth the interrogation he knows Yann is preparing – that smile – it’s worth it.

_Sassy Princeling._

_* * * *_

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To harass me on tumblr (I love it I won't lie): surrealsunday
> 
> Chapter 2 coming in 2020! It's so weird that I can type that. But yeah... it'll be up mid-late next week! <3
> 
> Psst... did I go back and correct Chris to be Alex after Anafun pointed it out to me in the comments. Yes... yes I did. So Chris/ Alex is whichever version you want him to be lol. My brain apparently can remember the character but not his name depending on the universe.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 24k word chapter coming at you because that's totally reasonable. Love you guys! Happy New Year! 
> 
> A sidenote: Anafun pointed out to me in the comments of last chapter that I write Chris when I mean Alex... I did this in Tempo too lmao. So... it will be Alex for this fic. Keeping it as Chris in Tempo. Picture whatever incarnation of the beautiful fuckboy you choose... I feel like Emma would have chemistry with them all. And let's just pretend I know what I'm doing and I'm not that much of a dumbass (I am that much of a dumbass).
> 
> Chapter heading graphic courtesy of Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr)!

“I still don’t get it,” Yann shakes his head. “You don’t just chill with the _Prince_ , give him a nickname and act like you’re buddies when you’ve barely been working at the Palace five minutes.” They're all sat around a table in their favourite bar, The Florin, and Yann has just finished relaying an extraordinarily exaggerated version of finding Lucas and Eliott together in the garage. 

“Awwww.” Lucas claps a hand on Yann’s shoulder. “Is someone feeling a little jealous? You’re still my bestest friend in the whole wide world.”

“Fuck off,” Yann laughs pushing Lucas off.

“C’mon,” Arthur chips in, “you have to admit it is the most Lucas thing ever to charm the Prince on the first day. I don’t think I so much as held eye contact with him for the first six months. But Lucas? Becoming instant pals with him when _he’s_ the one constantly bashing the Royal Family? Sure. Sounds about right.”

“I’m happy to see you finally admit there’s no defence against my charms, Arthur.” Lucas grins winningly.

“This is so unfair,” Basile huffs. “I’ve been trying to be friends with him for… _forever_. And you just show up and BAM! Friends.”

Lucas rolls his eyes while Arthur laughs and with little sympathy recalls, “Remember that time you had that _great_ plan to win him over with your new video game and you tripped walking up to him and smashed that priceless vase?”

Everyone laughs – though Daphne does her best to look sympathetic while doing so – while Basile pouts. “It wasn’t a priceless vase,” he disputes. “And he totally came to help so it worked!”

“Did it?” Arthur raises an eyebrow. “You two are besties then and you forgot to mention it?”

Basile chooses to ignore Arthur and turns his attention to Lucas instead. “How’d you get to be such good friends with him anyways? It makes no sense.”

“You guys are blowing it up into more than it is,” Lucas protests. “He just came into the garage to chill and we talked. That’s it.” He’s not sure why he hasn’t told any of his friends about his and Eliott’s adventure to rescue Eliott’s wallet. It just feels unnecessary and… private. There’s no need for them to know. It doesn’t change anything. And he’s dealing with enough ridiculous questions just from being seen with Eliott _once_. He doesn’t want to imagine what they’d do if they knew the circumstances under which Eliott and Lucas had truly become acquainted. 

“You guys looked a hell of a lot cozier than two people who were just ‘chilling’,” Yann notes and there’s a suspicious quality to his tone Lucas doesn’t like at all.

“Well I’m not sure what sort of homoerotic fantasies you’ve got cooking in that beautiful noggin of yours,” he taps the side of Yann’s head much to his friend’s annoyance, “but that’s all it was.”

“I’m just saying, Lucas,” Yann replies a little more seriously now, “things in the Palace aren’t the way you’re used to. You can’t just _charm_ your way out of trouble. There are protocols to follow and rules that when broken will result in a lot more than just getting fired.”

“It was one conversation. ONE.” Yeah, Lucas really can’t tell him about the rest. “I doubt I’ll see much of him at all. You all need to drink your damn beer and chill the fuck out.”

“What’s he like though?” Basile asks, starry eyed and clearly without any plans to let the topic drop. “Like when you talked? Was he cool? I bet he’s cool.”

The others perk up in interest as well and Lucas needs to swap these losers out for some better friends. Actually, screw that. He doesn’t need better friends. What he needs is alone time.

“He’s ok,” Lucas shrugs irritated and truly just wanting to move on from this topic of discussion. “What do you want me to say? He’s chill.”

“You have to be the least eloquent person on the planet,” Arthur chides in a teasing tone. “ _He’s ok. He’s chill_. Very illuminating. Thank you, Lucas.”

“Fuck off,” Lucas laughs. “You want to know what he’s like, go talk to him.”

Bas gasps. “You think that would work?”

Everyone laughs at that as Basile looks on bemused.

“Yes, that’s generally how things work, Bas,” Arthur chuckles. “You want to know a person; you have to at some point speak to them.”

“Don’t say it like it’s so easy,” Bas argues looking petulant. “We’re not all Lucas.” Daphne rubs his back comfortingly.

“That’s right,” Lucas agrees, suddenly enjoying the direction of their conversation. “I’m glad we’re all recognizing greatness when we see it.” He rakes a hand through his hair in a manner he thinks befits his obvious peak _cool_ status amongst his friends.

“Oh yeah?” Yann chips in, eyebrow raised. “You sure you want to declare your _obvious_ greatness when you’re sitting next to the guy who watched you vomit on your crush the first time you tried to talk to him?”

“He what?!” Basile cries delighted.

“Shut your gob,” Lucas laughs pointing threateningly at Yann. “I was sixteen and had the stomach flu.” The others laugh and Lucas can’t help but join in. That moment remains top five of his life’s most embarrassing moments and even the remembering brings back that sickly feeling of horror as he watched his crushes face transform with revulsion. Oh, the trials of youth.

“Hey Lucas,” Arthur interrupts their levity, pointing in the direction of the bar, “Isn’t that one of the shelter kids?”

Lucas looks in the direction Arthur is pointing and sure enough, it’s one of the kids he knows from the youth shelter. Lucas has only recently gotten to know her as she’s still fairly new. Her name’s Emily. Or at least that’s the name she’s provided and it corresponds with her Instagram handle so Lucas is inclined to believe it’s accurate. She’s likely somewhere around fourteen or fifteen years old. She has a hardness about her that makes Lucas feel like he’s looking at his younger self every time he speaks with her. She has only shared the bare minimum – enough to guarantee her a bed at the shelter but not enough as to let them know her. Not beyond what she shares on social media anyways which Lucas knows very well is a carefully curated account of someone’s life. Demanding Alexia and Lucas’s Instagram handles within five minutes of meeting them? Sure. Sharing her last name or what her favourite food is? Fuck no. That she’s in a bar that would have required ID-of-age to enter doesn’t surprise Lucas in the least.

As Lucas watches she takes a step back from a much older gentleman who seems none-too-pleased with her. His hand gestures angrily in the air between them while she crosses her arms in response and says a few words which only have the man’s face taking on a startling shade of red. “What do you think is going on there?” He hears Yann ask where he’s also turned to observe the scene.

“Nothing good,” Lucas replies, the horrible burden of reality suddenly weighing down every word. “I’ll catch you guys later.” The others nod as Lucas gets up, leaving their table and cautiously making his way towards the arguing pair. As Lucas watches, Emily turns and attempts to walk away. The man grabs her arm before she’s able to do so. That’s Lucas’s cue then.

“Emily,” he comes to stand next to the two, and her eyes swing to Lucas at the sound of her name, “about time we headed out then, wouldn’t you say?”

“Who the hell are you?” The man releases Emily’s arm to turn to face Lucas, spit flying as he speaks. “This doesn’t concern you.”

Lucas smiles at him serenely. “I don’t know about that.” He motions for Emily to come towards him and with a final wary look towards the older man she moves towards and behind Lucas. The man’s jaw clenches as he watches her go but he makes no further moves to grab her. “You see Emily here is something of my responsibility,” he hears her scoff lightly behind him and ignores it, “and I’d hate to think someone such as yourself,” he exaggerates a slow accounting of the man’s expensive suit with his eyes, “clearly an upstanding sort, would be harassing someone I hold myself accountable for.” He sees the man’s jaw clench in anger and adds, “Someone under-age.”

“Well if you’re responsible for her,” the man spits, “then you can get back the watch that little bitch stole from –”

Lucas steps up into the man’s face and he can never be sure of what he looks like in moments like this, what others see, when rage is fueling Lucas’s every move, but whatever it is, it quiets the man immediately. “You’ll watch your fucking mouth. Emily and I are leaving now and if I so much as see you move in her direction again – you so much as blink if you _ever_ see her again – I’m going to be a lot less courteous. Is that clear?”

The man’s hardly going to back down at that alone, but Lucas hadn’t expected he would. As Lucas motions for Emily to begin walking away and she does so, the man makes one last attempt to stop her, reaching out in her direction. Indeed it will be the last attempt. It’s a flimsy, obvious move and Lucas intercepts his hand with little effort. Grabbing the side of the man’s hand and wrist, Lucas wrenches it down and in the exact opposite direction it is intended to bend. The man makes a startled sound before the pain seems to register and he lets out a cry. Bargoers around them notice and watch curiously but do no more than passively observe. He knows Yann and his friends are likely watching the scene as well. They won’t interfere – they won’t need to – but Lucas appreciates the comfort in knowing Yann is there. Lucas doesn’t bother with any more threats. The potential to make this an even more painful and permanent affliction for the man is clear enough. He presses the man’s wrist back, slightly further, just for a moment more, the potential for it to snap a foreboding possibility, before he releases it just as quickly. The man quickly pulls his hand to his chest gasping. Lucas doesn’t pause. Turning he moves with purpose towards Emily where she has stopped a few meters from him. A hand to her back shoves her in the direction of the exit. Just before they reach the doors, he pulls her to a stop with a gentle hand on her elbow. He puts out his hand.

She stares at him blankly. “What?”

“The watch, Em.” His eyes brook no argument, but he knows he’ll get it all the same.

“You think I took it?” Someone else might be deceived by the way her eyes immediately look pained, by the tremble of her lower lip. But this isn’t Lucas’s first time in the ring and well… he’s mentioned it’s like looking in a mirror, right? Because he’s perfected that innocent act.

He says nothing, merely raising an eyebrow and waiting.

She huffs, giving up her previous act in favour of much more sincere irritation. “He doesn’t need it! He’s obviously got money. What do you care? You handled him.”

He grinds his teeth. _Patience, Lucas. Patience._ “You think that’ll be it? You think a little rough handling by me, and he’s going to shrug and go about his business happy to let you abscond with something of his? His _property_.” He stares at her until doubt seeps into her expression, alongside the stubborn tilt of her mouth. “Men like that aren’t put off by the likes of me. His happy place is relying on lesser men to do the dirty work for him – with or without a badge guiding them.”

“He won’t find me,” she protests.

“You willing to bet on that?” He jerks his hand in front of her. “Watch. Now.”

With one last frustrated sound, she pulls it out of her pocket and places it in Lucas’s hand. It’s a Rolex, engraved on the back. Fuck. She has a good eye but a terrible sense of self-preservation. There is no way that prick would have let this go.

“Leon,” he calls to a bouncer he knows well standing by the door.

Leon looks over with a smile and makes his way towards them. “Lucas, what’s up? Trouble?”

“Not anymore,” Lucas quips. “Do me a favour?” Leon nods. “Take this,” he places the watch in Leon’s hand, “and return it to the prick at the end of the bar. Three piece-suit, receding hairline… probably still holding his wrist and looking like he’s plotting murder?”

Leon laughs and looks over Lucas’s shoulder towards the bar. He nods when he’s located the man in question. “Got it.” He glances down at the watch then and whistles. “Damn. This your doing?” He looks up and at Emily who shrugs in response. “Lucky you got this one looking out for you.” He claps a hand on Lucas’s shoulder and squeezes. “I’ll take care of it. No worries.”

Lucas smiles in thanks and moves to exit with Emily. Another squeeze to his shoulder makes him pause, allowing Leon to bend closer, putting his face next to Lucas’s. “You look good. Next time maybe not all business, yeah?”

Lucas laughs, looking at Leon. “We’ll see.” He winks and turns to leave with Emily. It’s always good with Leon but… too many repeats with the same person is never a good idea. Leon’s chill but he’s also someone Lucas sees on a regular basis. He doesn’t want to mess with a good thing.

* * * *

He’s not normally one for lectures, he’ll leave those to people in actual authority positions but … well, Emily is certainly testing his resolve in that respect.

“You don’t need to like – chaufferone me there. _God_. I’m fine on my own,” Emily sulks stomping ahead of Lucas on the sidewalk.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘chaperone’… or maybe ‘chauffeur’… honestly that was a pretty weird combo it could be either.” Lucas sighs and counts to ten in his head, praying his patience will endure for the entirety of the five-minute walk to the shelter – an interminable amount of time at the moment. “And yeah, you really seemed fine on your own back there.”

She whips around, fire in her eyes. “I _was_ fine. I could have handled that.” And with the sort of disapproving look only a teen can truly pull off she adds, “You just wanted to show up on your white horse and play hero.”

“My white horse is in the shop actually.” Lucas continues walking, passing her and trying not to laugh when she hurries to stay a few steps ahead of him – literally. Though he’s fairly sure she considers herself a few steps ahead of him metaphorically too. But well… like looking in a mirror. He gets it.

“You are the most annoying adult I have ever met,” she huffs irritated.

He exaggerates an offended gasp, knowing it will annoy her further. “Hey! Who you callin’ an adult?” In truth however, he is a bit offended. He’s not sure when he got old enough teens could start calling him an adult, wielding the word as though an insult. What he _is_ sure of is that he’s not a fan. She turns to look at him and rolls her eyes in such an elaborate fashion, Lucas is even a little impressed. He’d probably give himself a headache trying that.

“You’re old. You’re an adult.” She patronizes.

“Old?!” Now he’s _really_ offended. “Fuck off! I am NOT old!”

She stares at him for a second and he’d swear she was trying not to smile. “Well… a responsible adult probably wouldn’t have told me to fuck off. So at least you can tell yourself you have the maturity of a fourteen-year-old.”

The _audacity._ He tries hard not to smile. Truly he does. But it’s a losing battle and at the sight of the sides of his mouth twitching up, she quickly turns and continues briskly down the sidewalk.

It’s thankfully only a couple blocks further until they reach the shelter, dim lights glowing from the front window. Emily doesn’t hold the door behind her. Letting it slam in front of Lucas as she marches in. _Teens_. Lucas follows a little less dramatically, shaking his head as he watches Alexia yell after Emily to sign in at the desk.

He makes his way to where Alexia sits with a laptop, her eyebrows pulled together in concentration as she types. “Hey babe,” he greets leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.

She throws up an index finger in the universal sign for ‘just give me a second’, and finishes typing before she turns to him, her face lit up in a grin. She stands to give him a hug in greeting. It’s only been a couple of days since they’ve seen one another but Alexia has that way about her – an overwhelming amount of affection to give at all times.

“Hey love.” She cups his face, smooshing his cheeks until his lips are forced to pucker and smacking a kiss to them with an exaggerated ‘mmmwah!’ He hates that she does that but… it’s Alexia. The same Alexia who found him sobbing and caked with dried blood on that dark street of Paris at thirteen and brought him into the shelter. The same Alexia who cuddled him that entire first night and let him blubber out his sob story, listening patiently as he snotted all over her. She’d been no older than him and yet she’d been living on and off the streets for a year by the time he’d met her. In Lucas’s eyes she’d seemed a million years older and more mature than himself. He’d been her shadow for six months – until she’d reconnected with her mom and moved out. But not far. And everything he’d learned about survival in those first few years had come from her. He quite literally owes her his life. And so… she gets to smoosh his cheeks all she likes.

“Busy night?” He asks, moving to perch on the edge of her desk and looking towards the back room where it looks like a number of kids have hunkered down with blankets and pillows to watch a movie.

She shrugs. “The usual. It’s not too cold yet so… you know how it goes. It’ll get busier.”

Lucas nods. “You cool with me bunking here tonight?” He doesn’t do it too often, but he likes to spend the night on occasion. His official excuse is that it allows him to have a better idea of who the kids are coming and going from the shelter. The unofficial reason is that the shelter is the closest thing to a place he’s felt comfortable calling home. The first place he felt like he had a complete family who loved him. He likes the reminder.

She smiles in response – answer enough – before she nods her head towards the door Emily exited through that leads to the bedrooms. “And Em? Trouble?”

“A bit,” Lucas admits. “I don’t think it’ll follow her back here though.” He bites his lip for a moment contemplating the events of the evening before looking to Alexia and adding, “You’ll call me if it does though, yeah?”

“You know it baby bro,” she nods with a grin.

“So,” he tilts his head towards the back room, “we joining or what? You know their movie taste is shit.”

She laughs, standing to follow him towards the back. “You might have a revolt on your hands if you force them to watch another 80s movie.”

“They need to learn the classics, Alexia,” he yells back as he enters the room. “It’s called _taste_.”

A chorus of groans greets him and he’s pretty sure he hears someone whisper ‘old geezer’ under their breath. _Kids these days._

__

* * * *

He admittedly did not think through spending the night at the shelter – his toiletries and clothing back at Yann’s – when he has to be up bright and early to get to work at a fucking _R_ _oyal Palace_. Thankfully basic hygiene products are available for use at the shelter and Alexia was able to scrounge up a shirt for him. It's about two-sizes too small and he feels like those guys who need to make sure everyone knows exactly how often they workout by wearing the smallest shirt possible on their bulky frames. But it’s not like he has an office job – it’ll be fine. He just needs to make sure he wears a jacket when around the boys or the mockery he’s sure to endure will be endless… and deserved.

Arthur in his infinite kindness comes to pick Lucas up on the way to work. By which Lucas means he had to promise endless, open-ended favours as it meant Arthur going twenty minutes out of his way which was valuable lazying time in the morning before work. They make it to the Palace _early_ anyways because that is truly just who Arthur is as a person. Lucas can’t say he totally minds. He’d likely only admit it under extreme forms of torture but… he’s nervous. It’s strange. _Nervous_ isn’t really a feeling he associates with himself these days. But then, his jobs for the past few years have been nothing he has any particular attachment to or true ownership of. This feels different. His work will reflect not only on him but Yann. And it’s not exactly like taking a position behind the bar at some seedy establishment or under a car at a rundown garage. This is a job at the Palace. The Queen is technically his boss. How fucked up is that?! And… beyond all that… he might just want to do a good job. For himself. Because he does this well and he’s never really had a chance to prove that.

The garage is dark and quiet when he lets himself in, fumbling for the switches to the overhead lights as he goes. He takes a moment to simply walk through the cars, running his hand across each in some sort of ritual greeting he wasn’t even aware he needed. But they feel like… his. They’re not of course. It’s not as though he’s kidding himself in thinking he has true ownership over any of them but they’re his to transform, his to breathe life back into, his to care for and nurture until they shine as they’re supposed to and well, that’s something. Something pretty cool. _God_. If Yann were ever to hear his internal monologue. If _any_ of the boys were to hear it, they’d lord it over him for life. Lucas, the Royal family's biggest critic, brought to his knees by the opportunity to fix up a few cars. He’s pathetic.

He smiles. Time to get to work.

* * * *

Admittedly he gets a bit wrapped up in what he’s doing and loses track of time entirely. He’d been taking an inventory on the cars and comparing it to the records available – an entirely productive use of time – when of course that had become opening the hood of one car and well… he’s no longer sure of how much time has passed.

Lucas doesn’t even hear him creeping up. That is how absorbed he is with his work. It’s a little concerning honestly. He should be ashamed of being so remarkably unobservant. In his defense however, Def Leppard blasting out of the speakers at top volume is somewhat absorbing all other sound. _Take a bottle, shake it up. Break the bubble, break it up._ Sure, he doesn’t have to be playing it at a decibel level that has tools on the workbench lightly rattling but after realizing there was no sound transfer into the hall (He’d checked! He’d pumped the volume and stood in the hall like a ridiculous keener who doesn’t want to screw up on the first day on the job) he’d figured why the hell not. _I’m hot, sticky sweet. From my head to my feet, yeah._ So, he’s entirely unprepared for the realization he’s no longer alone to come in the form of a light tap to his shoulder just as he’s singing along to _You got the peaches, I got the cream. Sweet to taste, saccharine._ The surprise touch has him jerking up from the engine so violently he slams his head into the propped hood.

“Fuck!” He yells. Or it would be a yell but for the fact that it pales in comparison to Def Leppard screaming _Pour some sugar on me, ooh, in the name of love._

“Oh god! I’m sorry!” _C’mon fire me up._

One hand pressed to his head Lucas raises his eyes to be faced with three Eliott’s. Or… he’s fairly certain there’s only one real Eliott. Whether he could choose which Eliott is the real Eliott he’s not positive.

The Eliotts stare, hands hovering in the air in front of them as Def Leppard wails. _Oh, I can’t get enough. Pour some sugar on me. Oh, in the name of love._

“Fuck,” Lucas repeats unnecessarily. “Will the real Eliott please stand up?” He chuckles to himself and it only has an even more concerned look spreading across the Eliotts faces. God imagine if there were three of him. Triplets. _Not the time or the place, Lucas!_ Fuck maybe he has a brain injury.

Lucas plops himself to the ground, leaning back against the grill of the car as the Eliotts watch on with brows bunched together in concern. Lucas closes his eyes and presses his hand a little more firmly to the back of his head where there’s now a clear lump forming. The music suddenly lowers to a reasonable level. Good thinking Eliotts. Lucas chuckles to himself and opens his eyes to see… oh. Just one Eliott then. Well that’s probably a good thing.

“Are you ok?” Singular Eliott asks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you like that. I called from the door, but you didn’t hear me.”

“Yeah,” Lucas chuckles and lowers his hand from his head to rest on his bent knees. “Sorry about that. Def Leppard had me in the zone.”

“Def Leppard?” Eliott asks curiously.

“Mmm,” Lucas hums. “Something about the guitar riff and the drumbeat. Gets me in my head.”

“Oh, the song you mean,” Eliott replies nodding and looking satisfied with himself for... figuring it out?

“Wait,” Lucas holds a hand in the space between them alarmed. “You don’t know who Def Leppard is?!”

“Um,” Eliott looks like he’s searching Lucas’s face for the right answer. “Yes?”

“Yes, you know Def Leppard?” Lucas narrows his eyes as he scrutinizes the way Eliott’s eyes shift to the side before he looks back.

“Ok well…” Eliott grins a little shyly, “maybe not so much.”

“Princeling!” Lucas gasps. “How can you have gone your very long – much longer than me mind you – life without knowing the majesty that is Def Leppard?! Has your very sheltered life even allowed you to know what music is? Music, Eliott. Mu-sic.” He exaggerates enunciating the world and can’t help but laugh along when Eliott giggles in response. 

“I mean if that screeching is what you want to call music…” Eliott trails off with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, ho, ho,” Lucas laughs eyebrows raised. “I see the sassmaster is back in fine shape.”

Eliott laughs again. “Doesn’t take sass to know good music when I hear it.”

“Oh please,” Lucas scoffs. “You probably sneer at anything that isn’t Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 5.”

Eliott grins, eyes scrunching with it. “That’s not true! I listen to all kinds of things. I’m just not much into rock.”

“Well that’s clearly because you haven’t been properly exposed!”

“ _Exposed._ ” Eliott snickers.

“Oy!” Lucas objects. “No time for dirty jokes… though, bookmark that for later.” He jumps to a stand from his seated position and wobbles precariously as blood rushes from his trauma-stricken head.

Eliott leaps up after him, holding his elbow for a moment and looking concerned. “Whoa. Careful. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Potential permanent brain injuries can wait,” Lucas declares, marching over to where he’d left his phone hooked into the speaker system. “We need to find out just exactly how sorely your rock education has been lacking.”

“My whole life has been nothing but education. I promise it’s not lacking.”

“Not rock education it hasn’t. And you’re a young, growing sassling. Someone needs to teach you before you’re a full grown sassling with no appreciation for the best music genre of them all.” Lucas scrolls through his music.

“You’re ridiculous,” Eliott remarks, leaning over to peer at the library of music Lucas is perusing. “I know rock music. Just because I didn’t know about a deaf leopard.”

“A _deaf leopard_?” Lucas’s jaw drops. “Oh god it’s worse than I thought.”

Eliott laughs, his cheeks reddening. “I know rock music! Shut up!”

“Shut up? _Shut up_ , he says!” Lucas clasps a hand dramatically to his chest. “Careful now. That’s the closest you’ve gotten to not-very-Princely language in my presence. I’d hate to think I’m rubbing off on you.” Eliott rolls his eyes. _Eight_. “Now. To important matters.” He clears his throat. “Pink Floyd?” Eliott shrugs. “Led Zeppelin?” Eliott sighs. “AC/DC?” Eliott crosses his arms. “The Rolling Stones?! Nirvana?!!”

“I told you,” Eiott interrupts and it’s a good thing too, Lucas is pretty sure his head was about to pop right off, “I know rock music. I just didn’t know that one song. I know all those guys.”

“ _All those guys_. Sure.” Lucas crosses his arms unconvinced.

“I do!” Eliott insists. “Everyone knows them!”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees. “Everyone knows Def Leppard too.”

“They do not,” Eliott pouts.

“Ok. You know AC/DC?” Eliott nods. “Right then, name one of their songs.”

“ _Name one of their songs_ ,” Eliott mimics. “You sound so pretentious.”

“Pretentious?!” Lucas’s mouth drops agape. “The Crown Prince did not just call ME pretentious. Oh god I tripped and fell into a parallel universe. This isn’t happening.”

Eliott laughs. “Well it’s true. And I do know them.”

“Alright,” Lucas allows looking back to his phone. “And you like them?”

“I guess,” Eliott shrugs. “Like I said, rock isn’t really my thing.”

“Oh, we’re gonna make it your thing.” Lucas lands on ‘Back on Black’. Hitting play, he turns and dials the volume back up to ear-splitting decibel levels.

“What are you doing?” Eliott asks but the beat is starting, and Lucas has no time for irrelevant questions.

He grabs a couple of wrenches to use as his drumsticks, picking up the beat immediately and moving his hands and the wrenches to it, nodding his head along.

Eliott starts laughing as he watches him. “What are you doing?” He asks again yelling over the music.

Lucas moves to the beat, hitting the wrenches against his invisible drum as he approaches Eliott, hair flying as he bangs his head along and starts to mouth along to the lyrics.

_Back in black_

_I hit the sack_

_I’ve been too long I’m glad to be back_

_Yes, I’m let loose_

_From the noose_

_That’s kept me hanging about_

Eliott laughs as Lucas advances but stands stock still, refusing to join in the infectious beat.

“C’mon Princeling!” Lucas yells over the music. “Let loose! From the noose!” 

Lucas throws his head back, shutting his eyes he hits the wrenches along to the beat.

_‘Cause I’m back_

_Yes, I’m back_

_Well, I’m back_

_Yes, I’m back_

He looks back at Eliott who’s watching him with a serene sort of smile that has no place in listening to a rock song that demands heads bang along.

“How can you listen to this and not bang along, sassling?!”

Eliott shrugs a little, grinning. “Pretty easily actually.”

“Fine,” Lucas yells, “you take over drums!”

“What? No!” Eliott shakes his head emphatically.

Lucas shoves the wrenches into his hands. “I have to do everything in this band!” He shakes his head in disappointment as Eliott laughs. He positions himself, air guitar in hand waiting for the cue in the music. “Guitar solo!” He throws his head forward and wisps of his hair stick to the sweat on his forehead as he moves, working the invisible strings of the guitar with enthusiasm befitting a rock god if he does say so himself.

When he looks up Eliott is only watching him, mouth slightly parted, not moving at all.

“Lazy drum player! For shame!” Lucas yells. He pauses his own animated movements as the song tapers down to a close and moves to take the wrenches out of Eliott’s motionless hands. The next song kicks in and Lucas gasps. “Eliott! Thunderstruck!”

“What?” Eliott asks face blank. “Who’s thunderstruck?”

“The song! Talk about a guitar solo! Thunderstruck, Princeling! Thunderstruck!” He moves to rid himself of the wrenches, throwing them with far too much force towards the work bench. One skitters across the top with a clang, coming to rest against the other tools. The other however catches far more distance and both he and Eliott freeze as it crashes into a small sheet of glass at the end of the workbench – a sheet of glass that shouldn’t even be there in the first place mind you – and smashes it spectacularly just as _I looked round. And I knew there was no turning back_ screams over the speakers _._

“Well shit.”

Eliott’s sudden laugh is clear even over the continued screech of Brian Johnson. Lucas moves to turn the music back down before looking back to Eliott with chagrin.

“Now it’s important to note,” Lucas states quite smartly, “while that move was very rock n’ roll, I do not necessarily recommend it when in one’s workplace.”

Eliott hiccups with laughter, bending over a little as he holds his stomach and Lucas can’t help but grin with pleasure as he watches him. Eliott inhales deeply as he straightens himself, wiping at his eyes as he looks at Lucas.

“You idiot.”

“Your Highness! Language!” Lucas gasps scandalized.

They grin at one another.

Another voice suddenly breaks into the comfortable stillness that’s settled between them. “I thought I heard AC/DC.”

Eliott startles and swings towards the door as Lucas does the same, though with far more composure. It’s Manon.

“Princess!” Lucas calls happily motioning for her to come join them in the room which she does happily, smiling and walking towards them. “Don’t tell me you’re a fan of rock when the brilliance of it somehow escaped your brother?”

“Sure,” she shrugs with a smile. “AC/DC, Metallica, Nirvana, Queen, Guns N’ Roses… the usual suspects I suppose.”

“Oh. My. God.” Lucas stares before moving towards her and swinging an arm around her shoulders as he looks back at Eliott. “How’d she turn out this great and you turned out like that?” He motions towards Eliott with disgust as Manon giggles. Eliott’s face pinches. “Wait,” Lucas suddenly backtracks, her words sinking in. “Heard? Shit! I tested the sound in the hallway. I didn’t think it was carrying.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Manon dismisses. “It’s only in a small reading nook on the second floor. There’s a shared vent I think. It’s not very loud anyways. Not up there.” Lucas nods in relief.

“I _told_ you I knew those groups too. They’re just not my favourite.” Eliott grumbles. He’s full-on pouting.

Manon turns to whisper to Lucas conspiratorially, “He likes EDM.”

“Oh god,” Lucas wails, pulling his arm off Manon so he’s able to cover his face with both hands in despair.

“I –” Eliott begins to defend but Lucas quickly cuts him off.

“Oh no, no, no. I won’t hear any more out of you.” He turns towards Manon accusingly. “How did you let this happen?”

She laughs. “I tried. Believe me I tried. But he’s the more stubborn twin.”

“Well that’s it then,” Lucas spreads his hands before him as though the events have just been laid out and he’s been divested of any power with which to change them. “Manon’s my favourite.”

“Well that’s not fair,” Eliott challenges and then adds a little more quietly, “You never said I was your favourite in the first place.”

Manon laughs looking at Lucas. “It sure is easy to win your favour then isn’t it?”

“Rock is the way to my heart, Princess. If you were willing to put up with a sex-less marriage, I would marry you on the spot, gay or not.” He tips his head to her and she laughs again.

“I’m afraid a sex-less marriage is not the greatest sell, but I thank you for the kind offer, sir.” She offers her hand which he takes gladly, kissing the back of it as she giggles.

“I brought you lunch!” Eliott’s voice, sudden and loud and directly next to them, startling them both into looking at him.

Eliott stands, face flushed, staring at them both intensely and holding a bag.

“What?” Lucas asks perplexed.

“Well,” Eliott looks quickly at Manon before his eyes come back to Lucas, “it’s way past lunchtime and I went to the kitchen to see if, uh –” He pauses looking down at the bag in his hand for a moment before looking back up. “Well, Yann said you hadn’t come for lunch and asked if I’d bring you this.” He holds out the bag.

“He did?” Lucas steps forward to take the bag. He holds it in one hand, his other hand diving in to investigate. At the mention of food, he suddenly realizes he’s absolutely famished. He hadn’t realized he’d gone so many hours without thought of a break or sustenance at all.

“The Chef asked _you_ to bring lunch to Lucas?” Lucas hears Manon ask and looks up to see her looking at Eliott with a small smile on her face.

“Yes.” Eliott’s replies, lips pressed tightly together and jaw clenched as he stares unblinking back at her.

 _Shit._ Lucas hopes Yann isn’t going to be in trouble of something.

“It’s totally like, Yann,” Lucas says uneasily. “I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm but like – I can tell him not to do it again.”

“What?” Eliott pulls his attention from Manon, looking at Lucas in concern. “No! No. I mean, I don’t mind. Don’t talk to Yann about it.”

Lucas purses his mouth, unsure as to whether he can trust Eliott’s sincerity.

“I was just teasing Eliott,” Manon adds lightly, turning her attention from her brother to Lucas with a smile. “He’s just _so_ helpful sometimes.”

Lucas remembers that all too well. A certain Pick-Pocket-Polly with a shiny fifty euros coming to mind immediately. “Yeah,” Lucas exhales a laugh. “That I believe.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being helpful.” A crease appears between Eliott’s eyebrows as he looks back at them both.

“Of course not,” Manon replies sweetly, moving forward to kiss Eliott on the cheek. The stubborn lilt to Eliott’s mouth gives way to a sweet smile he directs at his sister.

“You two are way too nice to one another for siblings,” Lucas says with an incredulous shake of his head.

Manon laughs, wrapping an arm around Eliott’s waist as she turns back to Lucas. “Do you have a brother or sister?”

“A sister,” Lucas replies. “Or well – like not blood but she might as well be. Alexia.”

Manon nods. “And you’re not nice to one another?”

“Only when forced or bribed,” Lucas replies straight-faced, cracking a smile only when Manon and Eliott laugh.

“Bribed with what?” Eliott asks grinning.

“Things of great import, Princeling. And only of the finest quality grade.” Manon and Eliott both raise an eyebrow in perfect synchronicity with one another. _Twins_. “Chocolate.”

Eliott laughs while Manon agrees with a smile, “Oh yes now you’re talking my language. I’d do a lot of things for chocolate.”

“Right?” Lucas rubs his stomach. “Speaking of, I’m starving. Thanks for this by the way,” he nods towards Eliott. “I probably wouldn’t have remembered to eat at all.”

“You’re welcome,” Eliott smiles satisfied.

“I should leave anyways and allow you to enjoy your meal,” Manon says as she watches him.

“You don’t have to leave,” Lucas insists. “You’re more than welcome to stay and share.”

“Oh no, no,” she laughs. “That’s for you. And I have to get going.” She steps back from Eliott turning her body towards him as she speaks again, “Actually _we_ have to get going. Mother wants to speak with both of us.”

Eliott heaves a deep sigh, looking thoroughly unhappy about this news and Lucas feels for him. He can’t imagine answering to your mother meaning answering to the Queen. In no world does that sound like fun. “Alright then. I suppose that wasn’t optional?” Manon smiles sadly and shakes her head. “I guess we’ll be leaving then.”

Lucas has already taken an enormous bite of out his sandwich when Eliott and Manon look back towards him to wave goodbye. He waves his sandwich in a goodbye of his own as they walk to exit. Madly attempting to swallow without choking before they’ve left the garage, Lucas calls after them, “Hey Princeling.” Eliott turns back to look at him quizzically. “Don’t think you’re getting out of your rock education that easily. AC/DC is one thing, but we’ve got a whole alphabet to get you all knowledge-d about.”

Eliott’s face brightens considerably. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” Lucas nods. “Serious business. I’ve a duty to all of us rock aficionados,” he nods at Manon who winks back, “to spread the rock gospel to non-believers. Gimme your phone.”

“What?” Eliott asks confused, pulling out his phone anyways as he walks back, unlocking it and handing it over. God he’s so trusting, Idriss must really have his hands full.

Lucas looks down and with greasy fingers enters his own phone number, texting himself so he has Eliott’s. “There.” He hands the phone back and Eliott looks down at it delighted. “Expect to be spammed with links to songs I will expect you to listen to the moment you get them. In the middle of a meeting with a foreign dignitary? I don’t care, you’re playing _Sympathy for the Devil_ on the spot.”

“Ok. And lunch tomorrow then?” Eliott’s eyes scrunch with his smile and he rocks slightly on his feet, hands shoved deeply into his pockets.

Lucas grins. “Sure.” Then just before Eliott turns again he adds, “And hey, tell Yann chips with the sandwich next time. He’s getting stingy in his old age.”

Eliott laughs. “Deal.”

* * * *

* * * *

* * * *

Lucas’s first couple of days working at the Palace settle more quickly into a comfortable sort of routine than he ever would have ever expected. Even more surprisingly, he likes it. It’s nice. Having somewhere he’s expected, having a job to do and tasks to complete, having familiar faces to greet, having a space that’s his own. It’s just – it’s nice.

He spends the morning on the more studious side of things, catching up records long since forgotten, recorded conditions of the cars, doing an inventory of supplies, accruing a list of supplies needed… the sort of stuff he enjoys the least but which needs to get done and is likely going to take him at least a few months to get to some sort of orderly standard he’s satisfied with.

Lunch has been spent with Eliott who brings him whatever Yann has deemed catch of the day, and they eat while Lucas upholds his end of the rock education bargain and plays Eliott a plethora of music from his library insisting he won’t stop until Eliott at the very least has a favourite. In the end, it’s Queen. Lucas can accept that. And granted Lucas is almost certain Eliott’s appreciation has a lot more to do with Freddie Mercury than it does the music itself but that too is something Lucas can live with.

The afternoons are usually when Lucas let’s himself have _real_ fun. That’s when he gets his hands dirty, working on the physical aspects of the cars and in truth, seeing just how dire the situation is in some cases.

It’s one such day and he and Eliott are just wrapping up an important session wherein Lucas has been teaching Eliott the merits of the grunge movement. Eliott had the audacity to say he didn’t ‘get’ Nirvana and well… it was either throw his hands up and declare Eliott a hopeless case or spend the next half hour changing his opinion. And Lucas has always loved a challenge.

“Yes but,” Eliott waves a hand in front of them as though ridding the air of Lucas’s argument, “you don’t have to scream to get a point across. It can be more subtle.”

“When has subtly ever effectively worked in getting a point across?” Lucas would honestly love to hear Eliott riff off some examples because Lucas isn’t sure subtly is a thing that exists in his world – certainly not as an effective method of _getting shit done_. 

Eliott makes a noise that seems to be caught between outrage and disbelief. “Subtly is … it’s the _most_ effective way to get a point across. Literature. Poetry. Music. Art! The most poignant understanding of some of the greatest works of our time would be overlooked if not for an understanding of subtly. Beethoven, Mozart, Bach… they all could tell an entire story just in the way they put together musical notes. Keats could create a mood more evocative of love with just a single line of poetry than all the rom com’s of the world put together!” He gestures with his hands as he speaks, swinging them through the air impassioned. Lucas is hard-pressed not to smile. “And Goya! Picasso! Atrocities committed as acts of war perfectly encapsulated by paintings almost entirely non-representational. Just line, shape, and colour composed a particular way and the horrors of war became visceral!” 

“I wouldn’t call Goya subtle. Hardly non-representational either.” Lucas argues.

“Well yes, fair,” Eliott nods in agreement. “I was mostly referring to Picasso when I said – wait.” He freezes, staring at Lucas. “You know Goya?”

It suddenly feels distinctly like Lucas has revealed too much. The way Eliott is staring at him so intensely makes him feel stripped bare, exposed for all to see. “Eh.” He shrugs. “I guess a bit. Mostly I just like that creepy painting of that dude eating that littler dude.” _Saturn Devouring His Son._

“Saturn Devouring His Son,” Eliott smiles. “Goya painted that on his wall, you know?”

Lucas does know. “Imagine being invited over for dinner at someone’s place and seeing that on the dining room wall?” They both laugh. “Bon Appetit!”

“We have a Goya actually,” Eliott adds excitedly. “In the library. The best art in our collection is in there actually.”

“Jesus,” Lucas shakes his head. “I’m beginning to think this mythical library doesn’t even exist. It sounds like something out of Beauty & the Beast.”

“I love that story!” Eliott crows happily. “And I can take you. We can go right now!”

Lucas laughs uneasily. Nope. Not happening. “As much as I’d love to go see this magical library, I do actually have a job I’m supposed to be doing.” He gestures vaguely at the cars surrounding them.

“Oh,” Eliott doesn’t try to hide his disappointment, pout immediately forming on his face. “Right.”

“Another time, yeah?”

“Yeah?” Eliott perks up. “When?”

“I dunno,” Lucas replied vaguely. “We’ll figure it out. I’m around, yeah?”

Eliott smiles. “Yeah.” He seems to get caught staring at Lucas for a moment before he physically shakes himself out of it. “Um, I guess I’ll let you get back to it then.”

“Yeah, I better,” Lucas agrees. Eliott stands and begins collecting the dishes from their lunch. “Hey, no leave it.” Lucas protests. “I’ll take them to the kitchen later.” He adds with an eyebrow raised, “I’m pretty sure the Crown Prince isn’t supposed to be cleaning up my dishes. Bringing me lunch is bad enough…”

“No,” Eliott disagrees. “I like it. I like doing it. It’s fine.”

“Well if the Queen ever sees you carrying dishes, you’ve never met me before in your life, got it?” Lucas threatens teasingly, helping him stack the plates in a more manageable pile.

Eliott chuckles. “You’ll never seem my mother back in this area of the Palace, don’t worry.”

Lucas hums. He sure hopes that remains true. “You don’t seem the biggest fan of hers?” He asks it tentatively, unsure if Eliott will be offended by the implication.

To Lucas’s relief, Eliott just looks thoughtful as he pauses in his movements. “She’s my mom. I love her.” He bites his lip as he looks down at the dishes in his hands before looking back up. “She just doesn’t understand me. But I guess, worse than that, she doesn’t want to.”

“Mmm,” Lucas hums. “That’s tough.” He contemplates whether to ask for a moment before deciding he’s in for a penny, in for a pound. “Does she not approve then? Of your sexuality I mean?”

Eliott looks startled for a moment and Lucas has a second of panic, wondering whether Eliott even recalls telling him. Blessedly, a small smile appears on Eliott’s face before he answers, his expression sinking into one of resignation. “Actually, I don’t think she cares. Not personally. She only cares what others would think. So, she prefers a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. Problem being, I keep telling. Or I would, if she’d allow it.”

“Do you mean come out?” Lucas asks curiously. It’s not the first time he’s wondered what that would be like for the Prince, but it’s the first time he’s considered the ramifications – the potential backlash. His own experience coming out to his family had not been a pleasant one – and he hadn’t had to concern himself with the reaction of an entire country.

“I don’t know,” Eliott replies, sounding truly uncertain. He sets the dishes aside and spins a ring on his finger nervously. “I suppose it would involve that. To be honest it’s never really felt like a true possibility so it’s hard to actually imagine.” Lucas can’t help but wonder if it’s Eliott’s feelings for the apparent mystery man that are driving his desire to be more open about his sexuality. It would make sense if that were the case. Lucas certainly can’t blame him. Only once has he ever entertained the idea of someone else being important enough to him to take such a terrifying leap of faith. The intensity of his feelings at the time had emboldened him in a way he never would have imagined. But he had been young and stupid. Eliott is far older, and with a plethora of resources at his disposal to make the process easier.

“Surely, your mum doesn’t think she can just avoid the topic forever?” Lucas is familiar with people’s ability to hold to denial as though it were the secret to eternal happiness, but it’s a little different when Eliott is pushing back against the Queen’s carefully built façade.

“That’s exactly what she thinks,” Eliott replies sadly. _The arranged marriage_ , Lucas remembers _._ Right.

“But there must be other royal families that have been through this, no?” Lucas honestly doesn’t know – the goings on of royal families across Europe being the last thing he’s ever taken an interest in. But it still seems plausible. “You can’t be the only one.”

“I’m not,” Eliott speaks with a bit more animation now, clearly excited to share the information. “The Italian family are actually. Their Prince just came out.”

The Italian Prince. The Italian Prince Daphne thinks is the object of Eliott’s affection? Suddenly, what seemed like improbable gossip from the least credible source takes on new shape and significance in Lucas’s mind.

“Wow. He did?” Lucas’s mind is reeling at the information and he does his best to maintain a look of only polite interest.

“Yes,” Eliott smiles excitedly. “He’s pan. Like me. And his family supported him. So, he came out publicly.”

“And?” Lucas inquires politely. “Clearly the world didn’t end so it’s gone alright for him?”

Eliott cringes slightly at that. “Well, I don’t think it’s been smooth sailing. But he knew it never would be in Italy. It wouldn’t be here either. But when the alternative is…”

“Hiding who you are,” Lucas finishes for him.

“Yeah,” Eliott smiles sadly. “It just doesn’t leave much choice. Not if you want to live openly with it that is.”

“Damn.”

They both stand in stillness for a moment as they contemplate the reality within which Eliott has found himself. Lucas can’t help but reflect on his own journey to self-discovery. Maybe he was luckier to experience it so young, as rough as it was. At least he was young and stupid enough to believe everything would work out just as he imagined, like some sort of fairy-tale. Lucas can see the painful realities of time and experience have robbed Eliott of the same sense of hope.

“Your life sure isn’t a picnic perfect, walk in the park, is it?”

Eliott barks a laugh, sudden and abrupt. “I think you mixed like three metaphors there.”

“Yes well, today wasn’t an English lesson, was it? It was a musical education.” He raises both eyebrows in warning. “And unless you want it to continue, I suggest you get your sassy self outta my garage.”

“Well I think I’ve had enough sad grunge for today, but if I feel like screaming at the world later maybe I’ll come back for some song recs.” He grins cheekily.

“Yeah ok,” Lucas picks up the dishes and shoves them back into Eliott’s waiting hands, giving him a little push while he’s at it, “enough lip for today, sasspup. I can’t keep up.”

“Pity,” Eliott grins, balancing the dishes and pocketing his phone.

“You’ll give my compliments to the Chef?” Lucas asks. He’ll thank Yann again himself later, but it never hurts to double up. This whole ‘getting lunch for free’ thing is a whole new wonderful world for Lucas and he doesn’t want to take it for granted. 

“As always,” Eliott replies with a smile. He turns to leave.

“And hey,” Lucas calls after him, waiting until Eliott turns to look back over his shoulder. “For the record?” Eliott nods. “Nirvana is plenty subtle.”

Eliott laughs. “I’ll believe it when I see it. Or, er, hear it.”

“I’m gonna make you a believer yet, Princeling.” Lucas smiles. “You just wait.”

“I look forward to it.”

* * * *

When he arrives to the kitchen at the end of the day there’s a different sort of frenzy in the air. It’s its usual bustling self but Lucas can feel tension thickening the air the moment he steps into the space. Both Yann and Emma are at one of the back counters discussing something, Alex at their side jotting down notes. Basile is at the door into one of the refrigerated spaces discussing items with another cook despite the fact that – Lucas checks a clock on the wall – both Yann and Bas were done their shifts a half hour ago.

Lucas makes his way to the back booth table where Chloe and Daphne sit sipping tea. They all greet one another and he takes a seat next to Chloe, stealing a sip of her tea much to her protest.

“What’s up with the stress?” He asks gesturing with his head towards the kitchen staff scrambling about.

“You haven’t heard?” Daphne asks delighted.

“Clearly not,” Lucas rolls his eyes. “I’m in the garage literally all day, Daphy. I’m not as connected to the Palace gossip channels as you.”

“Well,” she begins pleased with her newfound audience, “an entourage from the British Royal Family was supposed to arrive next Friday but apparently we’ve just gotten word they’re arriving _this_ Friday!” She stares at him with wide eyes before unnecessarily adding, “That’s only a day away!” Just in case Lucas was unclear on the days of the week. 

“Friday? What the fuck. Why?”

“No one knows,” Chloe answers. “All any of us know is we get to pick up the slack and make sure everything is ready for their arrival.” She looks none too happy about the turn of events.

“It’ll be fine,” Daphne dismisses. “We’ll just pull a long day today and tomorrow can be for the finishing touches.” She shrugs as though this were no impediment to her life whatsoever. It likely isn’t. Lucas knows the opportunity for the verifiable wealth of new gossip that will accompany Royal visitors will override any perceived inconvenience for Daphne.

Chloe on the other hand doesn’t seem to agree. “A long day? My feet already hurt. By the time we’re done we’ll have worked a double shift.”

“Jesus.” Lucas remarks. “That’s fucked. What do you guys need to do?”

Daphne answers. “Ready the guest rooms. We know the Prince is coming but not who else in the entourage so it’s hard to know how many rooms to prepare.”

Chloe whines miserably and lets her head fall to the table, resting her forehead on her arms. Daphne puts a comforting hand on her head while Lucas rubs her back.

“Seems pretty shit to me,” Lucas comments, “not giving you all a proper time to prepare.” He looks to where Yann and Emma still stand. He can’t imagine the strain they’re under having the timetable moved up a week.

“It’ll be fine,” Daphne replies brightly. Whatever energy elixir she’s drinking, Lucas wouldn’t mind a sip for himself. “And besides,” she grins leaning closer, “the Prince is _really_ hot.”

Chloe groans again, the sound somewhat muffled by her position. She turns her head slightly to look at Lucas, “Save me from this hell.”

He can’t help but laugh, charmed by the sweet, pitiful expression on her face. “What?” He asks laughing. “A hot prince isn’t enough to convince you to work through blood, sweat, and tears?”

“I’ll leave ‘im to Daphne, thanks.” She sighs. “All those types are dickheads anyways.”

Daphne gasps offended while Lucas laughs. “Careful there.” He pokes her cheek. “Don’t forget you work for one.”

“Him too,” she adds, with a raised eyebrow, just daring Lucas to disagree.

“Chloe!” Daphne whispers, fiercely outraged. “You can’t talk like that here! And Prince Eliott is lovely.”

Lucas is a little thrown himself. He’d been operating under the assumption Chloe harbored feelings for the Prince. Though perhaps that’s what this is about. Maybe she’s feeling scorned. “What’s your problem with Eliott?” He asks cautiously.

Chloe raises her head and with a sigh leans into Lucas, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s not him in particular,” she admits. “It’s just all of them. You think they’re your friend but they’re all just in it for themselves. Their country. Whatever bullshit.”

Daphne clicks her tongue in disapproval.

“Damn,” Lucas responds with a quick eyebrow raise as he peers down at where she rests on his shoulder. “You sound more cynical about upper crust society than me. No kidding we click.”

Chloe tilts her head back to smile at him and brings her arms around his own, wrapping it in some sort of likeness of a hug. “I’m just tired. Of all of it.”

Daphne unable to bite her tongue any longer, butts in. “We’re lucky to work here, Chloe. What’s gotten into you?”

“We’re all expendable, Daph,” Chloe snaps back. “Don’t kid yourself by thinking any of them care. None of us are special. And if you believe it when they say so, you’re the fool. They’d replace us in a second.”

Daphne purses her lips, looking cross, but saying nothing further. She turns to look out the window towards the courtyard. They all sit in tense silence for a moment.

“Hey,” Lucas moves the arm in Chloe’s hold until she looks back up at him. “Why don’t I help you two out?”

That gets Daphne’s attention. She swings her head back to them. “What? You want to help us prepare the rooms?”

Lucas shrugs. Sure he does. How hard could it be? If Yann’s going to be stuck here all evening, Lucas is as well. Might as well be useful.

“Have you ever made a bed before?” Chloe asks and there’s a small smile making its way onto her lips.

“‘Course. Been living on my own since I was thirteen. I’ve made hundreds of beds.”

“Thirteen?” Chloe exclaims at the same time Daphne snorts, “Oh you have no idea.”

“What?” Lucas looks at Daphne. “How complicated can making a bed be?”

Daphne and Chloe look to one another before bursting into a fit of giggles.

“Oh,” Chloe is grinning happily now. “This is going to be so much fun.”

* * * *

It’s a million years later, back and feet aching that Lucas collapses face first into the bench in the kitchen. He can hear Chloe coming up behind him, laughing at his misery. She’s a terrible friend.

“You are the most dramatic idiot I have ever met.” She bumps into his feet where they hang off the end of the bench.

“Leave me to die,” he wails. Or… attempts to. He’s somewhat muffled by the bench cushion.

“Oh my god,” he hears her scoff. “You only changed like one bed.”

“Excuse me?!” He flips around on the bench so he can glare at her from his prone position. “I changed five!”

“Uh hunh,” she replies unimpressed. “And I had to fix four of them.”

“Yes well, I didn’t realize making a bed in this place would involve about one hundred unnecessary steps and sheets so tight it’s no wonder everyone walks around here like they have sticks up their ass.”

Her nose scrunches adorably in confusion. “What? What does the way we make beds have to do with people in the Palace being uptight?”

“Ugh Chloe.” He shakes his head. “Must my unparalleled wit always be lost on you? Those sheets are so fucking tight it would take the jaws of life to even get under them… thus, no one is fucking around here… thus, uptight.”

“Ok,” Chloe responds clearly unimpressed. “First, that was not witty at all. And second, who says people aren’t just fucking on top of the sheets?”

Lucas promptly chokes on air before replying. “Why Chloe – wait what’s your last name?”

“Jeanson,” she replies laughing.

“Why Chloe Jeanson, that is a foul mouth you’ve got on you. And an even fouler imagination.” She raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘and so?’ He grins and sits up, patting the bench beside him. “And so, I have deemed you worthy of joining me in my self-pity.”

“Oh,” she smiles, “what an honour.”

“Damn right it is,” he grins.

Emma comes up just as Chloe’s sitting down, Yann on her heels and Basile just after him. “What up, loser?!” She reaches across the table to give Lucas a quick ruffle of his hair before she collapses into the bench with a groan, moving closer to Lucas to make room for the others. “Fuck. What time is it? I want to die.”

“You’re in the right place,” Lucas replies with a groan to match hers. She’s not allowed to one-up him on the self-pity. Not after that last fitted bed sheet came to life and tried to smother him. 

“It’s 23h,” Yann replies with a yawn and takes a seat next to her.

“Fuck really?!” Emma yells, far too loud and entirely unnecessary for their close quarters. “I feel like it’s way later. Today lasted years.”

“At least it’s done,” Yann stretches out in the bench with a groan bumping into a grumbling Basile who’s already laid his head down on the table as though to sleep right there. “It’ll make tomorrow a lot easier. You know we’re going to get last minute requests so at least tomorrow can be spent concentrating on that. The rest of the prep is done.”

“We should just fucking sleep here,” Emma whines. “Like we’re only going to get a couple hours in our own beds anyways. I want to die.”

Yann pats her back with a laugh. “Yeah you said that already.”

“Where’s Daph?” Basile asks from his collapsed position, not bothering to raise his head as he asks.

“She went to check in with Arthur,” Chloe replies.

As if summoned by speaking about them, Arthur and Daphne walk through the door into the kitchen, both looking fresh and happy as can be, as though just beginning their workdays freshly rested. Everyone groans at the sight.

“How the fuck do you two look so awake? You doing coke behind our backs or something?” Lucas calls out as they make their way to the table.

“Lucas!” Daphne cries appalled, plopping herself onto Basile’s lap. “Of course not! A good attitude just works wonders, you know?” He’s not the only one who grumbles in complaint at that.

“She’s right though,” Basile pecks the back of Daphne’s shoulder and smiles at her, seemingly renewed from his previous state of collapse. “We’re done for the day right? We should all be celebrating a job well done.”

“Ok so just to be clear,” Arthur breaks in as he pulls himself up to sit on the ledge behind Basile and Daphne. “I’m not with them. Never met them before in my life. Don’t know what they’re talking about. Just as tired as the rest of you and just really good at faking otherwise.” Everyone laughs.

“You know what we need?” Yann sighs dreamily. “Ice cream.”

“Oh my god can we please?!” Chloe squeals. A chorus of shouted agreement among the rest of them follows. They all smile happily. No one moves.

“Well it was my idea,” Yann argues. “I shouldn’t be the one that has to go get it.”

“But you’re the Chef,” Chloe pouts. “You know where all the good flavours are and stuff.”

All eyes swing to Emma. “Ya, fuck that.” She responds. “I’m not moving. Besides I’m all blocked in.” She motions to where she is indeed blocked on either side by Lucas, Chloe, and Yann, Basile and Daphne respectively.

The door to the kitchen abruptly swings open and they all freeze at the sound. Eliott walks in. It’s a moment before he notices them all, sitting in total silence staring at him in surprise. He’s halfway to the kitchen’s center island before he glances in their direction. He does a double take, freezing to stare.

“Oh.” Nobody moves. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize – that is to say, I was just coming for – and I didn’t know anyone was –”

“Princeling!” Lucas yells over what was clearly going to become a ramble so awkward Lucas was about to lose a year off his life having to endure it. “ _You_ can get the ice cream!”

“Lucas!” Yann reprimands while the others shift uncomfortably.

Lucas ignores him, choosing instead to look expectantly at Eliott.

“Um.” Eliott’s eyes nervously flicker over the faces staring back at him before he returns them to Lucas. “Sorry, what?”

“Ice cream! Bring me ice cream! My feet hurt and I’m tired and I need sugar and none of these lazy assholes will get up to do it.”

“Lucas,” Daphne whispers viciously, “you _can’t_ ask the Prince to serve you!”

But Eliott’s smiling now, just a little as he looks back at Lucas. And Lucas’s friends just don’t understand.

“Ok,” Eliott replies, smile spreading across his face. Lucas hears Daphne gasp as the rest of the table remains eerily silent. “I’ll get the ice cream,” Eliott continues, “but you’re helping.”

“Nooooo,” Lucas whines. “Eliott that defeats the whole purpose! Haven’t you been listening? Me. Tired. Sore. Not moving.”

Eliott raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Yes well, me?” He points _entirely unnecessarily the ridiculous Prince_ towards himself. “Not your personal server.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Lucas snorts and receives a smack to the back of head courtesy of Yann, who had to stretch across Emma to do it but damn if he didn’t just manage. “Ow.” Lucas pouts glaring at him before looking back to Eliott.

Eliott doesn’t look aggrieved by Lucas’s attitude, instead he looks … well… all too happy about the situation really. “If I walk into that freezer alone it’s pistachio only for you. Everyone else gets cookie dough.”

“Now we’re talking!” Arthur pipes up breaking into a smile.

“Would you bring back some of the salted caramel too?” Emma calls out.

“Oh yes!” Daphne agrees. “And just plain chocolate too please.”

“Ah yes,” Basile squeezes Daphne back into him. “Chocolate. A classic. I’ll have that too.”

Lucas’s jaw drops staring at them all in betrayal while Eliott’s smile only widens and he nods happily.

“You’re all traitors!” Lucas accuses before looking back to Eliott. He crosses his arms stubbornly, narrowing his eyes in challenge. “Like they even have pistachio back there. A heinous flavour if there ever was one. No self-respecting home has that in their freezer.”

Eliott smirks. “It’s Manon’s favourite. There’s always some kept for her.”

“ _Pistachio_ is her favourite?” Lucas refuses to believe such a flaw in character could belong to the same Manon who extolled the virtues of rock music.

Eliott nods, smug. “That’s right.”

“God. I’m gonna have to rethink her being my favourite.”

Eliott’s smile grows, his eyes crinkling with it now. “So – coming?”

“Fine. Fine!” Lucas huffs and throws himself forward to crawl off the bench and over Chloe.

“Ow! You idiot.” She cries as Lucas’s elbow digs into her thigh. “Get off me!”

“Give me a minute!” He flops in what he fears is much less than a graceful manner out of the bench and eventually to a standing position. “Not as spry as I once was.”

“I’m sure it’s tough in your old age. Everything starts to go. First, it’s the looks,” Eliott gestures at Lucas with an exaggerated grimace. “Then it’s the body.” He clucks his tongue. “Heartbreaking.”

His friends burst into laughter around him.

“Oh shit, I like this guy,” Arthur cackles.

“Alright, alright. Settle down you assholes.” He waves a hand to quiet them before turning back to Eliott. “I see the sasspup is in fine form this evening.”

The cheeky smile doesn’t leave Eliott’s face. He shrugs cutely, shoulders scrunching to his ears and back. “Sass deserves sass.”

Lucas points a warning finger. “Sharp and witty, remember? With you hogging all the sass there’s definitely not enough for the both of us.”

“I thought it was sharp and clever?”

“So you admit it?”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Lucas can hear Yann mumbling under his breath before he abruptly yells, “Ice cream guys!” Silent up to this point, the sound of him shocks even Lucas. “Enough banter. Ice cream!”

The rest grumble in agreement, some looking more amused than others.

“Alright dickheads.” Lucas throws them an unimpressed look. “Don’t see any of you getting up. We’re going.”

He motions for Eliott to go ahead. Lucas doesn’t actually know where to go but he’s assuming Eliott does. Sure enough Eliott leads them confidently to a side refrigerated space and through it, to the walk-in freezer. Eliott walks to the furthest end, turning to peruse the shelves and moving items aside in his search.

“Fuck. It’s colder than a witch’s tit in here.” Lucas shivers violently.

Eliott snorts turning his head to look at Lucas before he pauses in his movements altogether and with a look torn between amusement and confusion asks, “What are you doing?”

Lucas looks down to his own chest, fingers of each hand pressed delicately over his nipples, and back up again. “What?” He shrugs, unapologetic. “It’s fucking freezing in here and my nips could cut glass.” He smirks. “Besides, wouldn’t want you getting any ideas. I know what you types are like.”

A smile is tugging at the corners of Eliott’s mouth. “What types?”

“You prim and proper types,” Lucas looks him up and down. “Act all posh in the streets, dirty bugger in the sheets. Don’t want me and my pert nips getting you all riled up.”

Eliott barks a laugh, blood managing to rush to his cheeks despite the freezing temperatures. “You idiot.”

“Maybe so,” Lucas shrugs, “but I’m an idiot who’s not losing his nipples to frostbite. Now hurry up! Hand me some shit and let’s get out of this frozen hell.”

Eliott chuckles and turns to begin passing cartons over to Lucas. “Frozen hell? Is that an intentional mixed wordplay or reference to hell freezing over?”

“What’s with you and scrutinizing my metaphors? My brain is freezing, stop asking me to explain myself. It’s terribly inconvenient for my ego.”

Eliott laughs. “Ok, ok.” His own arms now laden with cartons he tips his head to the door. “Let’s go.”

They don’t bother with bowls. Instead dropping their loot onto the table to much enthusiasm from the waiting parties and grabbing spoons. Everyone dives in like the voracious animals they are, moans of pleasure coming from all sides of the table as though something far more interesting than eating ice cream were happening.

Lucas pushes at Chloe until she gives in, scooting closer to Emma and making room for him on the bench. It’s not until he’s wrestled one of the pints of cookie dough away from Yann that he notices Eliott standing at the end of the table. He’s got his hands shoved in his pockets and his chin pressed to his chest as he looks down towards his feet as though they’re the most interesting thing in the room.

“Hey.” He waits until Eliott looks up. “What are you doing? Get your ass in here.” Lucas shoves himself up against Chloe, crushing her against Emma to make a sliver of room at the end of the bench for Eliott. Chloe grumbles and twists to throw her legs over Emma in response, both women too deeply involved with a pint of salted caramel ice cream to much care about the diminished lack of personal space.

Eliott smiles softly before he perches himself delicately on the edge of the bench, hands folded on the table in front of him like some sort of proper church-going boy. Lucas rolls his eyes before slapping his hand on Eliott’s thigh and with a firm grip pulling him closer. Eliott jumps at the touch, his other leg jerking and knee banging into the underside of the table. Lucas snorts. “Settle down, you spaz. Shove in. You’re gonna fall right out sitting like that.”

Eliott does as asked with a small smile, sliding on the bench until he’s pressed up against Lucas, sides of their bodies lined up.

“There we go,” Lucas pats his thigh agreeably. “Nice and cozy. And in perfect position to share this lovely pint of not-Pistachio with me.”

Eliott reaches forward for a spoon. “Nuts shouldn’t be in ice cream. Never mind pistachio. I don’t know how Manon and I are related.”

“True,” Lucas agrees. “There is a time and a place for nuts and ice cream ain’t it. Well I mean… unless you’re into food play, I guess.”

Yann groans, throwing Lucas an unimpressed look. “I’m eating. Stop being gross,” he mumbles around the spoon in his mouth.

“ _Excuse me_ , Yann,” Lucas gasps mock-offended. “I don’t call the sexual acts you partake in gross.” Arthur mutters _I’m pretty sure you do_ but Lucas generously chooses to ignore it. “That’s just homophobic.”

Eliott giggles next to him. “Can’t even talk about eating ice cream off one another in peace. Homophobic.”

Lucas turns to him pleased. “See? He gets it.”

Eliott digs for another spoonful of ice cream. “Cookie dough is the best flavour anyways,” he states, quite rightly.

“Alright. You’re officially my favourite again,” Lucas declares waving his spoon in Eliott’s face. “ _Pistachio_. We really need to have words with Manon.”

An enormous smile overtakes Eliott’s face. He _glows_ and he’s got a chunk of chocolate stuck at the front of his teeth. He’s…

Lucas looks away.

It’s as Lucas is wrestling a particularly large chunk of cookie dough out of the carton that he feels Chloe’s eyes on him. He turns his head to meet them. There’s no particular question on her face, she’s simply looking at him. _What?_ He asks with a flick of his eyebrow. With a subtle shake of her head she looks back down to her ice cream.

Weird.

* * * *

He doesn’t manage to look up anything about this British Prince everyone is in a frenzy over until the following day. Sleepy and sore – because apparently helping ready the guest wing is more taxing on his muscles than any number of other physical excursions he regularly partakes in – he will admit he’s slacking off on the job a little more than he probably should but a fifteen minute break to sit and creep on people he doesn’t know on his phone surely isn’t the worst thing he could be doing. 

It’s not hard to find information about the British Prince… Charles. Lucas recognizes him, no doubt having absorbed information about him in the press without having even consciously realized it. And he sounds like a bit of a douchebag honestly. He’s in the tabloids constantly, out partying, different women on his arm every weekend, reports on him not at all flattering… _stuck-up, rude, pretentious, fuckboy…_ ok they didn’t said ‘fuckboy’ but Lucas can read between the lines. He just hopes the guy isn’t into cars. The visit is apparently only until the end of the following week. Lucas has high hopes he can strategically avoid meeting him in that time.

It would appear Charles has a public Instagram. Lucas chuckles as he scrolls it, imagining the Prince’s handlers trying to manage such a thing – in Lucas’s imagination they’re all bald from the stress. It’s not a particular scandalous account or anything, it’s a mix between a frat boys feed and that of a legitimate influencer. Lucas is bored within two minutes.

He exits out and searches Eliott’s name instead. Nothing. Which he supposes isn’t surprising. Eliott doesn’t seem like the type to have a public, fuckboy Charles-esque sort of Instagram. He’s suddenly curious though whether Eliott has an account. Maybe a private account? He can’t find anything for Manon either. Maybe she does too? He needs to remember to ask. Lucas’s own account is private. He’s never been all that interested in people being able to find him. Not ever. And as it happened, Chloe had informed him that was a very good thing. Social media accounts were part of the background check for incoming staff. They’d never asked him for information about his social media but Chloe had said they didn’t need to, that they’d know of them and should he post anything inappropriate, such as anything that violated the non-disclosure agreement all staff sign, that too would potentially be known and dealt with. As far as Chloe told it, there was an unspoken and tenuous agreement between staff and the Powers That Be that so long as a staff social media accounts remained private, a certain amount of leeway would be offered. Pictures taken in and within the Palace wouldn’t be a problem so long as they didn’t pose a security concern or cast any sort of ill light upon their work within these walls. And it was a given that should any staff member post something deemed inappropriate, it reflected on the Palace, and that employee would be promptly let go. Though Chloe’s words were ‘dealt with’ but Lucas was at least 90% certain in most cases that meant dismissal and not torture or death… maybe 85% certain.

The whole discussion had freaked him out quite honestly. He wasn’t one to shy away from a threat, and certainly not one to change his behaviour based on a perceived threat from someone in a position of power but… this job as it turned out was important to him. It surprised him too, ok? He doesn’t want to mess it up. Not just because Yann had put his ass on the line. But because… well, Lucas liked it. One more week and he’d have paid off his mom’s housing bill for the month in just two weeks. None of the other jobs Lucas has had over the years would have provided that sort of financial cushion. He’ll have money _left over_ at the end of the month. He just might, in time, be able to provide for both his mom _and_ himself. And more than that, he got to do so while enjoying the work. He got to see his friends each day, he had lunch provided, and even better, provided by Eliott who would stay and entertain him. It just all in all was a pretty sweet situation. The thought that he could screw it up with a simple picture posted to his Instagram was too ridiculous a notion to even entertain. He’d accepted Chloe to his account and she’d done the same. The rest of his friends already followed him. And he’d seen the things Chloe posted. It was very typical fair of a young woman’s Instagram and she certainly didn’t seem to hesitate before posting a picture of herself and Daphne, uniforms on, looking exhausted but happy and standing in the guest wing hallway with a caption about the job being complete and being ready for visitors. Still… Lucas felt extraordinarily insecure about it.

He considers for a moment before posting a picture Chloe had taken earlier in the hallway.  
  


He should get back to work. He’s got things he wants to accomplish on the Chevy today. He can’t sit scrolling Instagram all day…

He looks up the Italian Prince. He googles him first. Niccolò Fares. He switches back to Instagram and searches him. Well… looks like the Italian Prince has public social media as well. Far less of a douchebag vibe than that Prince Charles. It’s a mix of carefully curated pictures of himself and goofy pictures with what looks to be friends.

There’s a picture with Eliott. From two months back. They both look good. Happy. Close. They’re both extraordinarily beautiful. That can’t be denied. Lucas stares at the picture, eyes blurring with the intensity of his gaze. He closes the app, darkening his phone and staring at the dark screen for a moment, his own reflection gazing back.

This is fucking stupid. He needs to get back to work. He moves to connect his phone back to the sound system. Scrolling through his music, stopping when satisfied and hitting play. He reaches for the volume, cranking it up.

Guns N’ Roses blasts through the speakers.

 _She’s got a smile it seems to me_. _Reminds me of childhood memories._

* * * *

It’s end of day – or at least end of day for him – when he decides he’ll properly take advantage of the gym for the first time. Yann once again is going to be working an extra long shift in preparation for the British entourage arriving the following day, and Lucas knows better than to offer his services to Chloe and Daphne again. But he’s got time to kill and while he could grab a ride with Arthur who is leaving at a reasonable time, he’d rather wait on Yann. He’s never felt fully comfortable going back to Yann’s place without him. Yann has never done a thing to make Lucas feel unwelcome in his apartment but all the same, Lucas is keenly aware it isn’t _his_. He’s an imposition whether Yann would ever admit it or not. And Lucas has been staying with him going on two months now, since he lost his last job and couldn’t afford to keep the squalor of a room in the shared apartment he’d been renting. He tries to be a good roommate. He does. But it’s a tiny one-bedroom. It’s not like he can do much to stay out of Yann’s hair apart from physically staying out of the apartment. And he tries to. He visits the shelter and pulls the occasional nighter there. He cruises the streets, checking in on kids he knows and making sure they stay out of trouble – and rescuing the occasional Prince. The point being however, he’s not about to head home to Yann’s place as though it were his own.

And so, he’s got at least a couple of hours to waste and while he could probably easily spend it continuing to work in the garage, he’s been thinking about that gym since the moment he saw it. He’s had a change of workout clothes with him since the first day. He can’t remember the last time he had a chance to workout in a proper gym. The shelter has a small space consisting of a few mats, a stationary bike that’d seen better days and the punching bag that had through Lucas’s teen years, becoming his therapist, trainer, and best friend.

 _Nothing_ like this gym, he thinks, as he walks in. It’s empty which is about what Lucas expected, with everyone in the Palace seeming to be busy with preparations for tomorrow’s arrivals. There’s a single, private bathroom and he changes quickly into lose shorts and a tank. He doesn’t bother with shoes, leaving his feet bare. He spends some time wrapping his hands and it’s in doing so he realizes it’s been too long. It feels good. Really fucking good. The familiar movements bring him immediate comfort. He’d missed this.

He moves to hook his phone into the sound system before he makes his way to the punching bag. He sinks into a rhythm immediately. Warming his body up before he throws more force behind his movements. His muscles protest, burning as they re-familiarize themselves with the excursion. The bag groans and shifts with each punch, each kick, each forceful blow. Sweat drips into his eyes and pieces of hair fall onto his face, his shirt sticks to his chest. His mind is silent. No thoughts, no worries. Nothing but the burn of his body. He doesn’t pause until his muscles demand it, drained and shaking. He falls forward, gripping the bag and resting his forehead against it as he attempts to catch his breath.

“Your form’s good.”

Lucas jumps, whirling around with arms raised.

“Whoa.” Idriss raises his own, palms out. “Easy there, Rocky.”

Lucas drops his stance, watching Idriss warily. “Sorry, you surprised me.” Idriss’s words catch up to him. “Rocky Balboa?”

“Who else?” Idriss grins.

Lucas exhales a laugh. “Not used to classic movie references around here. They sure go over the head of that Prince of yours.”

“Mmm,” Idriss nods with a smile. “That kids got terrible taste.” He nods to where Lucas’s music plays out of the speakers. “You should hear his taste in music.”

Lucas laughs. “So I’ve heard.” Idriss hasn’t moved, standing at the edge of the mats, arms crossed, clearly dressed to workout. “You like rock?”

“More Manon’s thing than mine,” he shrugs. “If I’m going to go old school,” he nods to where the Rolling Stones now play, “it’d be like Public Enemy, Snoop, Dre, Nas, you know.”

Lucas nods. “Nice to know someone in this place has taste. Well… someone other than, Manon. I was starting to lose hope. Basile thinks Justin Bieber is the pinnacle of musical genius.”

“And you stay friends with him?” Idriss chuckles.

“Can’t seem to get rid of him. He’s like a duckling that’s imprinted.” They grin at one another. “That how it is with Eliott and you?”

Idriss takes a moment to look at Lucas – more accurately, to eyeball him – before he answers. “I suppose you knew Eliott and I were more than friends the first night we met?”

Lucas’s eyebrows rise and he smirks. “More than friends, eh? That actually sounds a lot more interesting than what I was thinking the first night we met.”

Idriss’s body relaxes as he laughs, arms dropping to his sides before one hand comes up to drag over his face. “You dirty-minded bastard. You know what I meant.”

“Do I though?” Lucas grins.

“That I’m his personal guard. _And_ his best friend.” Idriss is still smiling as he says it. “Is that not good enough for you?”

“I don’t know. You two are pretty fucking hot. Can’t blame a guy for imagining something a little more interesting.”

Idriss shakes his head chuckling and makes his way across the mat towards Lucas. He continues to a bench at the side, grabbing wraps from a bag beneath. He begins wrapping his hands as he speaks. “Sorry to disappoint. Never really seen the appeal of dudes. More into the ladies myself.”

“Pity.” Lucas winks with a grin. “But more for me, I guess. Don’t know that I’d want to go up against you anyways.”

“Up against me for what?” Idriss asks looking up from where he’s securing a wrap around one fist.

“For dudes.” _Duh_. What did Idriss think he meant? “Like – I’m fucking hot, man, but I can recognize a fine specimen when I see one. If it came between you and me, I wouldn’t be too keen on seeing who the guy chose.”

“Any particular guy?” Idriss is watching him carefully.

“I’ll hit the bar this weekend and let you know.” Lucas raises an eyebrow. “You want the details all you gotta do is ask.”

Idriss drops his eyes back to his other hand, beginning to wrap it as he laughs lightly. “Thanks for the offer but I think I can do without the details of your sex life.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing out on,” Lucas bites his lip around a grin as Idriss looks up to meet his eyes, voice slow and sexy. “Could probably teach you some things.”

Idriss’s jaw drops, mouth hanging open just a little before he catches himself and laughs impressed. “ _Fuck_. You must clean up.” He shakes his head, grinning at Lucas in admiration. “Tell you what. If I ever have a crisis of sexuality, you’ll be the first I call.”

Lucas throws a hand to his chest dramatically, palm pressed over his heart. “That’s all I ask.”

They both laugh.

“So, what about you then?” Lucas moves back from the punching bags as Idriss positions himself in front of one and begins warming up. “Any particular ladies I should be jealous of?”

Idriss doesn’t look over at him, instead concentrating on the way his fists are making contact with the bag. “Nah.”

Lucas hums watching him for a moment as Idriss changes his stance, switches dominance from arm to arm fluidly. He’d be a powerful opponent. “Oh no? No particular Princess who’s caught your eye then?”

Idriss freezes, mid-punch, and swings around to stare at Lucas. “What?” He looks panicked before he seems to realize his reaction is probably a lot more telling than he would like. His face closes off but it’s clear he has less experience guarding his emotions than Lucas does. He’s painfully transparent. “What are you talking about?”

“We could do this thing where we go back-and-forth if you like.” Lucas shrugs with a raise of his eyebrow. “I pretend not to know. You pretend not to know I know. And we get lost in some sort of conversational quagmire until you realize I’m not here to stir up shit. It makes no difference to me that you’re into her.”

Idriss continues to stare, expression blank, arms crossed against his chest defensively. Lucas lets him look. Idriss inhales deeply and his arms fall to his sides. “What the fuck?” He shakes his head disbelievingly. “No one knows. How the fuck…”

Lucas shrugs. “To be honest it was a hunch. I’d say I was maybe forty percent sure. ‘Til now that is.”

Idriss’s hand comes to rub across his face once more as he shakes his head before he looks back at Lucas. “How though?”

“I met her when I first started. Saw you two together.” Lucas tilts his head as he watches Idriss tense even further. “Like I said – a hunch. I’m good at reading people. It wasn’t obvious if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Fuck.” Idriss turns and punches the bag, violently and forcefully. Just once. Lucas doesn’t flinch. Idriss turns back to Lucas, one hand raised pleadingly. “If anyone found out –”

“You sure no one else knows?” Lucas finds that hard to believe. With the way gossip runs rampant through the Palace – with the way Lucas figured it out by only seeing them together once – it’s hard to believe others haven’t picked up on it. Illicit romance is the lifeblood of good gossip after all. Lucas doesn’t need Daphne schooling him to know that.

“No one.” Idriss says seriously, eyes burning into Lucas.

“Not even Eliott?” That seems… like a recipe for disaster honestly.

Guilt skitters across Idriss’s face so quickly Lucas wonders if it was even there in the first place. “No. Eliott doesn’t know. He’s distracted by his own shit.”

“Listen,” Lucas sighs. “I’m not gonna tell anyone how to live their life but he’s your best friend. Shouldn’t he know his friend and his sister are together? Like Eliott doesn’t strike me as the violent type but –”

“What?” Idriss cuts him off, face creased in confusion. “I’m not with her. What are you talking about?”

Lucas feels like he lost the plot somewhere along the way. “What are _you_ talking about? You and Manon. You’re together. Is there another Princess I don’t know about?”

“We’re not together!” Idriss exclaimed sounding panicked. “Fuck. _Fuck_.” He moves to sit down on the bench to the side of the mats, dropping his head into his hands. “We’ve never been together.” He looks up at Lucas pleadingly. “We’ll never be together. No one can know about this. Not Eliott. Not anyone.”

 _Oh_. Well fuck. “You’re in love with her.” He doesn’t state it like a question and Idriss doesn’t bother confirming. He doesn’t need to. “Does she know?” Idriss shakes his head miserably. “You think you can keep that hidden?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding so incredulous.

“I have,” Idriss states fiercely. “It doesn’t need to be known. It won’t go anywhere. No one needs to know. It would ruin everything.”

Lucas nods. He gets it, is the thing. Love has a way of turning worlds upside down, destroying walls carefully built, throwing lives into chaos. “Yeah. I get it.”

“Lucas,” Idriss says seriously, looking up at him from where he sits, forearms pressed to his knees. “This can’t go anywhere. You can’t tell anyone. Especially Eliott.”

Lucas smiles easily. “It’s cool. No one will know. Easier for me than you, I imagine.”

“Eliott can’t know.” Idriss repeats.

“Uh hunh,” Lucas replies in the same tone he’d use to say ‘heard you the first time’. “It’s not like we’re pen-pals sharing our deepest, darkest secrets. It’s fine. You don’t want him to know. He won’t know.” Lucas raises an eyebrow. “That’s if you can keep your shit together. And if he doesn’t already know.”

“He doesn’t.”

“If you say so.”

They stare at one another. An impasse.

“Spar?” Lucas asks, eyebrow raised in challenge.

Idriss breaks into a relieved smile. “I’m game.” He stands and moves to a bin Lucas hadn’t noticed, pulling out a couple boxing gloves and blocking pads. “I don’t normally have anyone to train with. The other guys – the other guards,” he clarifies at Lucas’s questioning look, “they’re mostly older and we don’t really jive. They don’t train here.”

Lucas nods. “Only people I train or spar with are kids so go easy on me.”

“Kids?” Idriss asks, tossing the pads to Lucas and going about putting on the gloves.

“Kids at a shelter I help out occasionally.” Lucas tenses slightly as he says it. It’s an involuntary reaction to sharing personal information. But well… Idriss just confided something pretty fucking serious in Lucas whether he’d meant to or not. And something about him makes Lucas want to do the same.

Idriss nods and doesn’t bother asking any follow-up questions. It relaxes Lucas – makes him feel like he did the right thing in being honest.

“Alright then,” Idriss tightens his last glove with his teeth. “I’ll make sure I’m gentle.” He grins.

“Oh, I didn’t say that,” Lucas returns his grin, cheeky and pleased. “I like things a little rough.”

Idriss laughs shaking his head. “You’re a dirty little fucker. I can see why Eliott likes you.”

“Eliott?” Lucas slips the pads on his arms, looking up at Idriss in surprise. “Prim and proper Prince Eliott liking the fact that I’ve got a mind of filth? You sure about that?”

“Prim and proper,” Idriss laughs. “Wait ‘til you get to know him a little better.”

“He’s just as filthy, isn’t he?” Lucas asks delighted. “I knew it! Posh types are always like that.”

“I don’t know that anyone could compete with you. The little glimpse into your mind I’ve had tells me no.” Idriss remarks and Lucas grins proudly. “But Eliott is no innocent, lily white and pure, that’s for damn sure.”

“You realize I’m absolutely going to use this knowledge to my advantage, right?” And how. Lucas can’t wait to run with this confirmation of his suspicions and embarrass the ever-living-shit out of Eliott. Lucas _knew_ there was a randy, dirty Prince hiding beneath those blushes and nervous gazes.

“It’s all he deserves,” Idriss replies with a decisive nod. “Someone needs to get that kid to loosen up.”

And _ooohhh_ there are just so many dirty jokes on the tip of Lucas’s tongue but before he can do more than open his mouth, Idriss raises a boxing glove in warning. “No,” he threatens. “Don’t go there. Now pads up.”

“Fine.” Lucas pouts, tightening the straps on both blocking pads before raising his arms. “But I’m still thinking it.”

“Yeah well,” Idriss gets into a balanced position, raising his arms, “I expect no less. Now pay attention while I pound you into the ground.”

Lucas’s jaw drops. “Please tell me that was intentional innuendo.”

Idriss smirks.

“Oh, we’re going to be friends.” Lucas laughs pleased, clapping the pads together and raising them in position. “Show me what you got.”

* * * *

By the time they finish they’re both covered in sweat and Lucas is pretty sure he’s going to be sore for the next week at least. He hasn’t had a workout that intense in… he can’t even remember. Maybe never. Not a PG sort of workout anyways. And fuck he’s too tired to even commit to making a dirty joke out of it.

Idriss looks pretty wiped out too, though not nearly to the extent Lucas is. The bastard. He turns to look back at Lucas as they exit the gym. “There are showers in the bathrooms attached to the pool if you want to wash up.”

“Did you just invite me to shower with you, Idriss?” Ok maybe he’s not too tired for dirty jokes. _Way to rally, brain._ “Knew I’d get you eventually. It’s the sweaty muscles that did it, right?” He flexes a bicep. “Who could resist?”

Idriss laughs, turning fully towards Lucas. “Ohhhh,” he exaggerates an impressed sound. “Never have I seen a sweaty muscle before in my life.” He reaches for Lucas’s arm, squeezing his bicep for emphasis. “You’re right. I can’t resist. Take me now. I can’t wait for the showers.”

“Take you?” Lucas grins eyebrow raised. “That I wasn’t expecting but I gotta say I’m game.” His slides his eyes up and down Idriss’s body. “Might need to climb you like a tree to do it but I’m willing to make that effort.”

Idriss bursts into laughter, hand moving to Lucas’s shoulder to balance himself as he bends over slightly, his other arm wrapping around his stomach as though it were taking the last of his energy to laugh so hard after their workout. Lucas can’t help but join him. He really likes Idriss. He can see why Eliott’s claimed him as a best friend.

“What – what’s going on?” Eliott’s voice is soft and tentative where it suddenly comes from beside them.

Both Lucas and Idriss straighten in surprise, laughter cutting off as they turn to look at Eliott. He’s standing with a beautiful young woman next to him. She’s holding his arm and they’re both staring at Idriss and Eliott. The woman looks one second from laughter, just barely suppressing her amusement. Eliott however looks clearly distressed, eyes darting back and forth between them.

“Eliott man, hey,” Idriss replies smiling. “And Lucille. Nice to see you.” _Lucille_. Wow. So this is Lucille. Eliott’s ex and future betrothed apparently. She’s beautiful is the only coherent thought running through Lucas’s head.

She smiles at Idriss. “Hey Idri.” Her eyes move to Lucas. “And I don’t believe we’ve met?”

“Lucas.” He wipes a hand against his shorts before extending it forward awkwardly. “Sorry we were just working out. I’m a bit sweaty.”

She grasps his hand in a firm handshake anyways. “Working out, hunh?” She looks at Idriss for a moment before looking back at Lucas and with mischievous smile asks, “Is that what we’re calling it these days?”

Lucas’s eyes widen in surprise while Idriss groans. “Lucy, fuck off. Don’t encourage him!”

Lucille grins and Lucas can feel an involuntary smile growing on his own face. He looks at Idriss’s pained expression before turning back to Lucille. “He likes to pretend it’s not inevitable but we all just heard him invite me to the showers, right?”

Lucille giggles delighted, covering her mouth with a hand and blushing prettily.

“Oh Jesus. I’m never going to hear the end of this,” Idriss whines. “I’m going to shower. ALONE.” He emphasizes at the look on Lucas’s face, and turns to make his way down the hall.

“You don’t know what you’re missing out on!” Lucas calls after him.

Idriss turns, walking backwards as he grins back at them. “Let’s stick to sparring. I’m usually there every day after shift. You game?” He directs the question at Lucas.

“For sure,” Lucas smiles, genuinely happy at the prospect of a training partner, someone he actually likes to boot. “Maybe starting next week though. I think I’m gonna be too sore to walk tomorrow never mind anything else.”

“You see now _that_ was an opening and if I was less of a gentleman, I would have taken it.” Idriss laughs. “Later.”

Lucas grins, offering a wave as Idriss turns back around. He turns back to look at Lucille and Eliott. Lucille’s cheeks are still flushed and she looks simultaneously entertained and scandalized by the conversation she just witnessed. Eliott on the other hand is looking down at the floor in front of him, brow furrowed and hands clasped tightly.

“What’s up with you?” Lucas asks, throwing a foot out to kick Eliott’s shoe.

It has the intended effect and Eliott looks up. “I didn’t know you and Idriss were hanging out?”

Lucas looks at him confusedly. “I hadn’t seen him since I first met him with you actually.” He scrutinizes Eliott’s expression but he can’t read it. “We just ran into one another today and trained together. That’s not a problem is it?” He can’t imagine why it would be and to be honest if it is, he and Eliott are going to have words. Eliott doesn’t get to claim Idriss as his own any more than he gets to dictate what Lucas does with his own time.

“Of course it’s not,” Lucille answers for Eliott. “Idriss is wonderful. Eliott you’re happy they’ve made friends, aren’t you?” She nudges him with an elbow and Eliott drops his eyes from Lucas, nodding. He looks like a sulking child and it is a beyond bizarre reaction.

“O…k…” Lucas looks to Lucille in confusion and she rolls her eyes in commiseration. “Well I’m going to go wash up too. I’m sure Idriss is expecting me.” He directs the comment at Lucille, knowing his humour will be lost on Eliott in his current _mood_.

Lucille laughs. “Well don’t keep him waiting.”

Lucas winks and turns to make his way down the hall. He can’t help it though; he has to turn back. He calls to Eliott, “We doing lunch tomorrow, Princeling?” Eliott hadn’t come for lunch today and Lucas had to go to the kitchen to scrounge something from Yann who hadn’t even made him something in preparation. The nerve. Lucas wasn’t sure how Eliott always managed to have a meal prepared for him courtesy of Yann but today had involved begging a very-busy Basile and honestly it hadn’t been nearly as nice as the Prince bringing his lunch.

Eliott looks up in surprise. He stares at Lucas for a moment before a smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “Yeah. Sure. Tomorrow.”

“Cool.” Lucas nods before looking to Lucille. “Nice to meet you, Lucille.”

“Likewise, Lucas,” she replies with a smile.

Lucas turns and hurries down the hall. If he’s lucky he just might catch a glimpse of shirtless Idriss.

* * * *

* * * *

Despite making plans, once again Eliott doesn’t show for lunch and Lucas has to go in hunt of something to eat when he finally accepts the Prince is a no-show. His workout with Idriss the day prior not only had his muscles screaming but left him with an appetite like a ravenous beast. By mid-afternoon he gives up, cautiously leaving the garage. Something of a sanctuary to him now he always feels a little weird leaving it to venture into the rest of the Palace. While the garage is on nearly the opposite end of the Palace from the kitchen, the hallway running the length of the back of the Palace connects them both and Lucas can at least comfort himself in it being a pretty clear route to eventual food.

That is of course until he’s intercepted by Chloe who comes barreling out of a supply closet and runs right into him.

“Crap!” She exclaims, nearly head butting him in the chest. “Sorry!”

Lucas steadies her with hands on her shoulders. “Everything alright?” She’s clearly in a flap, pulling a cart after her and frantically sorting through the contents. She’s cursing under her breath and barely seems aware he’s there. “Chloe, hey.” He pulls her back slightly with a gentle hand to her shoulder. “What’s going on? Are you alright?”

She looks up at him, eyes tearing. “Lucas,” she swallows heavily, “I think I left the task book somewhere. Daphne’s going to kill me. _Arthur’s_ going to kill me.”

It seems a vast overreaction to a minor problem, but Lucas knows better than to say as much. “Ok.” He nods, projecting calm in an attempt to ease her clear anxiety. “Where do you think you left it? Can you retrace your steps?”

“I think it’s up in the twins wing. There’s – there’s a room up there and I think I might have put it down in it or maybe just outside it?” She stares at Lucas, entire face collapsed in upset.

Lucas is trying really hard to be understanding here but that sounds like she knows exactly where it is and he’s struggling to see why this is such a problem. “So,” he begins cautiously, “you can go get it in that case, can’t you?”

“I can’t, Lucas,” she says it in a whisper wracked by emotion. She suddenly looks up him, face animating with hope. “Can you go get it?”

“What?” He raises his hands in front of him as though he’s just been faced with a charging bull. “No. No. Why? Why won’t you go get it? Why would you want me to?” Venturing out into the rest of the Palace is not something he does. Once, when helping Daphne and Chloe ready the guest room in the middle of the night, sure. During the middle of the day with the Palace bustling all around him? The potential to run into the _Queen_ around every corner? No fucking thank you.

“Please, Lucas,” she pleads. “You know the twins’ wing. It's the first hall at the top of the stairs. And the room is the fourth door on the left when you reach it. It’ll only take you a few minutes!”

“Then why can’t you do it?” He argues. This makes no sense.

She looks frustrated, eyes falling to the side of them as she collects her thoughts. “Because I – I have to go to the laundry.”

“What?” Where the fuck is this coming from and how does that prevent her from retrieving this book?

“There was a – a request for additional towels. I can’t make them wait. They’ve already been waiting too long. I need to go now, Lucas. But I’ll be in so much trouble if I don’t get that book back.” God fuck her big, brown puppy dog eyes honestly.

Lucas may not buy this laundry story but he sure as hell gets that for whatever reason Chloe does _not_ want to venture to the guest wing to retrieve this book. Fuck it.

“Ok. I’ll go.”

“Thank you!” She cries throwing her arms around his neck for a quick hug. “Fourth room on the left.”

“Fourth. Got it.” He sighs and turns in the opposite direction he should be travelling with the enthusiasm of a man walking to execution.

One last look over his shoulder at Chloe staring after him and he takes a left, towards the centre of the Palace.

* * * *

Through some sort of blessing of fate, he doesn’t see a single soul as he makes his way to the second floor of the Palace. Granted he’s rushing and moving around corners as though he were an actual criminal but considering what he knows about the second floor being off-limits to all but the appropriate working staff, behaving as though he were a criminal doesn’t feel all that out of place.

It’s not long until he turns the corner into the twins’ wing and seeing it empty he rushes towards the fourth door on the left. As he approaches, he notices light spilling out into the hallway. The door is open. Worse yet, he can hear voices. Fuck. He doesn’t even know who’s staying up here right now. There is no doubt however if anyone sees him, they will know he is not supposed to be here. Housekeeping staff wear a uniform and Lucas is currently in black jeans that have seen better days, and a very casual blue t-shirt with a nice smear of dirt down the middle. Perfect for working on the Chevy. Not so perfect when trying to appear like housekeeping staff.

He moves closer to the wall, creeping closer and praying the age of the building won’t mean creaking floors. His view into the room, now just a few meters away, reveals a table just inside the entrance just to the right of the door. And on it sits the leather brown book he’s seen Daphne and Chloe writing in as they record their duties and check things off their lists. He just needs to get close enough to grab it and get the fuck out of here.

He’s so wrapped up in his mission, he doesn’t realize he recognizes the voices speaking until he’s next to the room and he can see who they belong to through the semi-open door. It’s Eliott and Lucille. Lucas isn’t sure who he was expecting but it wasn’t them. And it wasn’t… this. They’re lying on top of the covers of the bed on their sides facing one another. Lucille is facing away from Lucas and towards Eliott. She’s speaking and Eliott brushes hair back from her face as she does so. He’s propped his head up on his hand, elbow planted on the mattress, and face visible, expression soft as he nods at whatever she’s saying. It’s an incredibly intimate scene. Lucas stares at them, at the loving expression on Eliott’s face, at the clear comfort and familiarity between them.

Lucas has the sudden, completely irrational urge to announce himself. To stomp into the room and demand answers. Even more bizarrely, he feels anger course through his veins. Adrenaline spiking. _This_ was why Eliott skipped lunch with him? Because he was with Lucille?! He couldn’t let Lucas know? _Noooo_ , cuddling the woman he claimed he didn’t even want to marry is so much more important. So Lucas gets to go hungry and Eliott gets to string him along, showing up for lunch only when it suits him, ditching Lucas when he has a better offer, better entertainment. Yes, he knows it’s a ridiculous and inappropriate reaction. He has no claim to Eliott. Their lunches together don’t mean anything. They’re just convenient and entertaining enough when it suits them both. The music education lessons are just a joke shared between them. There is no reason for Lucas to be angry. But there’s plenty of time to let the rational part of his brain take control later. For now, he’s pissed.

He moves forward, no longer bothering to hide his presence. He reaches through the opening for the book. The movement catches Eliott’s attention and Lucas sees him look up. Lucas meets his eyes, keeping his own expression cold as surprise washes across Eliott’s face. Lucas doesn’t pause, turning and moving quickly back down the hall. He hears Eliott call his name but doesn’t pause.

He’s so distracted by his need to get away, and moving so quickly as he comes around the corner, he doesn’t think to check to ensure the hallway has remained empty and he runs directly into another body, hitting it with a fair bit of force.

“Fuck.” He stumbles back as does the other person.

“Excuse me?” Comes a deep, male voice.

Lucas rights himself with a hand on a side table before looking up… at the British Prince. Charles. Well sweet buggering shit.

It’s not that he had forgotten the British Prince was coming. It’s just that he gets pretty wrapped up in the garage and honesty, he’s a bit removed from the rest of the regular Palace happenings and frenzy. He prefers it that way actually. For this exact reason.

“I’m sorry.” Lucas immediately lowers his eyes and prays to the heavens he can escape this situation unscathed. “Please excuse me. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No, you certainly weren’t.”

Lucas can’t help but look up at the pompous tone in the reply to see that the Prince is wiping down his front as though Lucas had somehow transferred a wealth of dirt just by briefly touching him.

“And I won’t excuse you,” the Prince continues. “What are you doing in my wing?”

 _His_ wing? What the fuck? What a fucking dickhead. Lucas is glad to know his brief research on Charles was indeed completely accurate. He’s a pompous douchebag.

Lucas bites his tongue before replying, calling on his most amenable tone. “I just had something I needed to retrieve but I’ll be on my way now.” He raises his hand briefly to show the book before he moves to walk around Dickhead Charles.

Charles grabs his wrist. He _grabs his wrist_. Hand latching around the wrist holding the book and tightening. All of Lucas’s muscles tense and it takes more self-control than he ever imagined he possessed to not lash out, free himself and utterly decimate this prick.

“Charles.” Eliott’s voice approaches behind Lucas. “Charles, what’s going on?” He comes up beside them, but Lucas refuses to look at him, keeping his eyes on Charles.

“Eliott,” Charles acknowledges with a nod before turning to sneer at Lucas, hand tightening around his wrist. “I caught this vagrant in your halls. It would seem he’s stolen something.” Charles reaches and plucks the book from Lucas’s fingers. Only because Lucas allows it, mind you. And it’s becoming harder with each second to contain the way his body and brain are demanding he react.

Eliott takes the book as it’s offered to him by Charles. “Please let go of him, Charles,” Eliott ask quite calmly as he flips open the book.

Charles releases Lucas’s wrist with an irritated sound. “You should speak to that joke you call your guard. If he’s letting street urchins roam your halls you’ve got a serious problem.” Lucas bites his tongue so hard he’s sure he tastes blood.

“He’s no security threat, Charles,” Eliott replies, tone cold and calm. “And this is just a work ledger.”

“A work ledger?” Charles scoffs in disgust, taking a step back from Lucas as though hearing he’s staff is more disgusting to him than believing Lucas is a common thief. “You allow your staff to dress like this?” Lucas looks away from Charles for the first time to look at Eliott. 

Eliott rolls his eyes, holding the book out towards Lucas without looking at him. Lucas pauses too long apparently because Charles reaches forward to take the book before he can. He snatches it from Eliott and slaps it into Lucas’s chest. “Well take it.” Lucas reaches on instinct more than anything else, grabbing the book against his chest. “What sort of people do you have working for you? Honestly Eliott, you and I should sit down and talk about the appropriate training of your staff. This is abysmal.”

Eliott sighs and when Lucas looks back to him, Eliott’s eyes are still only on Charles. “He works on the cars, Charles. He doesn’t have to look good. No one sees him.” The words sear into Lucas’s skin like a brand.

“Well clearly I saw him,” Charles snaps. “A moment I’d like to take back.”

Eliott rests a hand on Charles shoulder. “Let it be. He’s no one. C’mon, tea will be ready by now. Let’s go enjoy.”

“Fine. Yes. I’m famished,” Charles agrees, now a bit more agreeable at the promise of food.

They both turn and walk away from Lucas, leaving him standing in the middle of the hall. He has to go the same direction. He stands, not moving, barely breathing until they’ve reached the bottom of the stairs, and then across the lower foyer, until he can no longer hear their voices. Their vicious voices.

 _No one._ That’s what Eliott had said. _He’s no one._ It’s a good reminder. A necessary reminder. He’s no one. No one to Eliott.

* * * *

He finds Chloe in the kitchen, sitting on the outside edge of the central island and chatting with Idriss. He hands the book over to her silently and sits down heavily on one of the stools.

“Thank you.” She’s quiet as she says it, clearly sensing something is wrong. “Did everything go ok?”

Idriss hops up on the counter next to Chloe as he looks over at Lucas in interest as well.

He looks up at them miserably. “I ran into the Prince.”

“Eliott?” Chloe asks perplexed.

“No,” Lucas replies with a deep sigh.

“Oh fuck,” comes Idriss’s voice. “You ran into Prince Charles?”

“Literally.” Lucas feels renewed anger suddenly spike in his veins, as though his shock waning has allowed him to rediscover his rage… and then some. “I want to hit something.”

“You want to train?” Idriss asks surprised. “I thought you said you were too sore.”

“I am too sore,” Lucas agrees. “I still want to beat the shit out of something.”

“Yeah,” Idriss expels a laugh that holds no humour. “That bag of dicks has that effect.”

“Idriss!” Chloe admonishes, nervously glancing around them to where other staff scurry about their duties. “Careful.”

Idriss looks unconcerned. “I don’t think there’s a staff member here – at least none that have met him – who think any different.”

“Saying it out loud is the problem,” Chloe warns.

“He’s a piece of shit,” Lucas contributes, refusing to allow Idriss to stand out on a ledge alone in the risky game of insulting the British Prince. “He’s the exact kind of person I despise. The sort of person who uses their power to stomp on others. I honestly don’t know that I’ll be able to hold myself back if I ever have to face him again. It took everything in me not to pound his smug face in.”

“Lucas,” Chloe sounds genuinely scared. “Lucas you can’t.”

“I’m staying in the garage and not coming out until he’s gone.”

“No,” Chloe continues with a shake of her head. “You don’t understand. He’s into cars, Lucas. He’ll choose a car to drive while he’s here.”

“What the fuck?!” Lucas’s blood boils. “And no one has told me that? They don’t even know what cars are in any condition to be driven. Jesus fucking Christ!” He knows his voice is rising in anger and other kitchen staff are looking over at him now, but he truly couldn’t give less of a shit at the current moment. “How am I supposed to do my fucking job when they’re promising an asshole Prince a car at his discretion?” He stands and starts pacing. He can see Chloe’s hands flapping in front of her in an effort to get Lucas to lower his voice. He can’t be bothered. “Like hell I’m going to let him wreck one of my cars. Fuck!” He slams a fist down on the counter top.

“I know what you need,” Idriss says, an interesting edge to his voice.

“I am not training, Idriss,” Lucas replies. “Believe me I want to beat the shit out of the bag right now but I am serious, I physically can’t.”

Idriss shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.” He motions for Lucas to come closer towards him and Chloe and bends his head to whisper to them both. “You need revenge.”

“Idriss what are you even talking about?” Chloe sounds exasperated. “He’s the Prince of England. You don’t get revenge of the fucking Prince of England.”

Lucas is inclined to agree but he’s also spitting fury and intrigued by the look in Idriss’s eyes.

“I’m not talking about off’ing the dude, Chloe,” Idriss replies sounding amused and fond. “Just a little reminder he’s not untouchable. With maybe a little humiliation thrown in.”

“What’d you have in mind?” Lucas is so game. _So game._

“We prank him.” Idriss grins.

Chloe makes a disbelieving sound between them. “This isn’t a fraternity or something. You can’t prank the Prince of England. The Prince of England!”

“Sorry, who is he again?” Lucas asks grinning, a renewed sense of purpose settling in him.

“You guys,” Chloe does not look amused. “What if we get caught?”

“Chloe,” Idriss throws an arm around her shoulders. “I’m the only security on-sight at all times. Who the fuck is going to catch us?”

She expels a breath. “What’s the plan?”

Lucas and Idriss exchange grins. Idriss motions for them to move to the booth at the back of the kitchen. Just as they’re settling in, conspiratorially leaning towards one another, Daphne appears out of nowhere, swinging down into the bench with them.

“What are you guys doing?”

Idriss and Lucas freeze in place but – much to Lucas’s shock and horror – Chloe replies without hesitation. “We’re pranking that asshole.”

Lucas squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the inevitable scolding to begin.

“Good. I want in.”

Lucas’s eyes pop open and he stares at Daphne in shock. She looks angry and determined. _What the fuck?_

“I thought you were all hot for this Prince, Daphy?” Lucas asks warily.

Daphne doesn’t reply. Instead her face fills with colour and she looks down at the table instead.

Chloe answers. “Daphne is responsible for his room. He wasn’t very kind to her.”

“He was a fucking prick.” Idriss adds, reaching over to place a comforting hand on Daphne’s back. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

Daphne nods and looks up to smile at him gratefully. “So? What are we doing?”

“Ok,” Idriss begins, glee lacing his voice. “You know how he had that lube and told you he jacks off before dinner?”

“He did WHAT? And… what? I – just – what?!” There is no way Lucas just heard those words. He clearly is having an aneurysm.

The others turn to look at him, each bearing their own resigned and mildly disgusted expression.

“He put the moves on Daphne,” Chloe explains, looking at Daphne briefly as though to ensure she’s alright with Chloe relaying the story, before she looks back to Lucas. “He asked that additional pillows be brought to his room when he arrived this morning and then basically demanded she give him a blowjob.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lucas is hard-pressed to keep his voice lowered. He wants to go murder the Prince himself.

“When she refused, he got out the lube. Said she had to jerk him off or he’d get her fired.” Chloe shakes her head in disgust. “He sort of… got specific about the times of day he likes it. That if his own ‘girls’ weren’t here to get him off than the duty fell to our Palace’s staff.”

Lucas feels physically ill. His immediate reaction is that he wants to tell Eliott. That this is not something Eliott would _ever_ allow. That he would do something – protect his staff. Only then the memory of Eliott’s words in Charles’ presence rush back through him like acid eating at his veins. Eliott didn’t do a thing to defend or protect Lucas, and Lucas had thought they were – well, friends or whatever-the-fuck. There’s no way he could trust Eliott with this.

“What, um…” He’s not sure how to ask what happened. He’s not even sure he wants to know. But he needs to know. Because if Charles touched Daphne – if he forced her – well, a prank won’t be enough. Lucas doesn’t care how comfortable he’s become in this job, how important it is to his burgeoning financial security, he won’t sit idly by and let this happen. Consequences be damned.

“I burst into tears,” Daphne replies, her eyes even now looking a little watery. She abruptly hiccups a giggle. “I’m a pretty messy crier. I think it was the snot that really freaked him out.” She grins at Lucas. “He kicked me out.”

Lucas smiles at her. Clever woman. He should have expected as much. When it comes to manipulation, Daphne is a verifiable master and Lucas has never been prouder of her for putting her skills to such excellent use.

“Alright,” Lucas turns back to Idriss. “I actually want this guy dead now so please tell me you have something good in mind.”

Idriss smirks. “Well it’s clear what he values most is his dick, right?”

“If you’re going to tell me we cut off his dick I’m not saying I’m not game, I’m just saying it might require more planning than sitting around a kitchen table.” Lucas offers, only half-joking.

“I’m not gonna lie,” Idriss replies quite seriously, “that’s where my head went too. So, I started thinking how can we fuck with this asshole’s cock without ya know, causing an actual international incident and resulting in us all being thrown in the Tower or something.”

“The lube,” Chloe suddenly speaks. “You want to mess with the lube.” Idriss nods with a grin. “What – like put in glue or something?”

“That’d never work,” Lucas shakes his head. “Sorry love but a guy knows his lube. The texture and feel of glue would be a dead giveaway.”

“Not glue,” Idriss agrees. “But get this – the fucker buys strawberry lube.”

Lucas raises his eyebrows in question. “Ok – and?”

“It’s pink,” Idriss grins and reaches back for a bag on the counter behind them, Lucas hadn’t noticed. “I know this because…” Idriss pulls the lube out of the bag and places it on the table in front of him. “I took it upon myself to inspect his room for any security concerns earlier today after Chloe told me what happened to Daphne. He’s not going to notice if it’s a _little_ more pink than usual.”

“Fuckin’ hell, man,” Lucas throws out a hand for a congratulatory slap which Idriss gladly accepts. “So, you’re thinking we throw some dye in there as well?” Idriss nods. “Well it’s not near what he deserves but I suppose it’s the least likely to result in him thinking someone else is responsible. He’ll think it’s a problem with the product.”

“It’s not enough,” Daphne states determinedly.

“Daphne…” Chloe begins but Daphne cuts her off.

“He's allergic to coconut.”

"What? How can you possibly know that?" Chloe asks looking skeptical. 

"The kitchen was given a list of all of his allergies, of course," Daphne dismisses looking impatient. 

“What exactly are you thinking, Daphne?” Lucas asks warily. “We can’t exactly rub coconut all over his dick without him noticing.”

“No,” she agrees. “But we can melt coconut oil and add it to the lube. It's oil, right? He won't notice... but I bet his skin will. I had a friend who used it to tan once and broke out into a horrible rash. She swelled right up with itchy bumps all over her body. And she didn't even _know_ she had an allergy.”

Lucas laughs. “Fuck Daphne. That is diabolical.” She grins. He grabs the lube quickly, checking the ingredients. "It's oil-based," he confirms. "That'll work." Lucas turns to look at Chloe and Idriss. They both look just as shocked and impressed by this turn of events.“We’re doing this then?” Lucas asks. They all exchange looks, nodding with surety. He grins. “Alright. We meet in the garage at end of day.” He checks the time on his phone. A couple more hours until they’re all done their shifts, before turning to yell across the kitchen where Emma stands at the counter. “Ems, what time is the family having dinner tonight?”

“19h,” she yells back without looking up, not questioning why Lucas wants to know. Man, he loves Emma’s total disinterest in happenings that don’t include her.

“That’ll give us a couple hours to get this done and return it to his room.” Lucas smiles at them all. “You guys good to hang here to watch the fall-out? Yann’s working a split shift. I want to hang out until he’s ready to go anyways.”

“You kidding?” Idriss grins. “I wouldn’t miss it for the fucking world.”

* * * *

Lucas thinks they might all have a future as some sort of really specific spy – a vengeful, pranking spy. That should be a thing. Because they’re all fucking great at it. The plan goes off without a hitch. The lube returned to Charles room before he returns from his afternoon jaunt into town with Eliott.

They’re on pins and needles in the kitchen booth as they wait for some sort of indication that the plan worked. It comes in the least likely form: Yann standing at the end of the table staring at them all suspiciously.

“Tonight’s dinner was cancelled,” is how he announces himself.

“Oh?” Daphne responds. “Goodness! Why is that?”

She is so painfully obvious; Lucas can’t help but cringe. He really should have told them all to leave the lying to him and Idriss. He feels fairly confident that anyone who’s managed to hide illicit feelings for the Princess from the biggest gossip in the castle (aka. Daphne) is someone who’s likely an accomplished liar.

“Mmm.” Yann’s eyes come to rest on Lucas. “Apparently His Royal Highness Prince Charles had a medical emergency. Came out of his room screaming late this afternoon.”

Lucas sees Chloe smother a laugh out of the corner of his eye, but he keeps his eyes on Yann, expression neutral. “Oh yeah?”

“Yep.” Yann nods. “But he refused to go to be taken to the hospital. A doctor had to be brought in-house. Apparently, the affliction is in a particularly delicate area.”

“Sounds terrible,” Lucas replies with just enough feigned interest.

Yann looks at him just a moment longer. “Did he deserve it?”

“He did,” Lucas replies with absolute conviction.

“Alright,” Yann nods in approval. “Well it looks like we’re all getting out of here earlier than expected then.”

Lucas grins and sees the others visibly relax around him. They don’t know Yann the way Lucas does. They know him as the super professional Chef. Lucas knows him as the same dumbass who helped him prank that boy when they were nineteen after he’d rejected Lucas in a truly humiliating fashion. Yann absolutely would have approved of this plan. But it’s best he doesn’t know the details. They both know that.

“Well,” Lucas announces happily, “I’d say that calls for a celebration. Dancing and drinks and general fuckery, yeah?”

Yann grins in reply. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

* * * *

It would have been perfect. A night for the ages. All his friends, old and new, on their way to The Florin. Dancing and drinks ahead. High off the knowledge of what they’d done to Charles. The majority have already left, leaving only Lucas and Idriss. Idriss had to do one last check of the security system. Lucas had offered to stay back with him because he was feeling generous and clearly because the fates liked to fuck with him and had something special in store.

In light of learning what happened to Daphne, Lucas had actually nearly forgotten entirely about his own unpleasant encounter with the dickhead Prince. That is until Eliott catches them as they’re leaving, making far too much noise and announcing their plans to drink the bar dry and crash at Yann’s.

“Where are you going?” He appears in front of Idriss as though out of thin air, blocking their progress towards the back door.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” Idriss asks clearly thinking along the same lines as Lucas.

“Where are you going?” Eliott repeats.

“Out,” Idriss replies. And Lucas is wholly glad it’s Idriss dealing with Eliott. Best friends have a lot more leeway when it comes to throwing out attitude indiscriminately. “And the answer is no.”

“What?” Eliott looks immediately cross. His eyes move over and land briefly on Lucas before returning to Idriss.

“You’re not coming.” Idriss says it with absolute finality.

“Yes, he is.” All eyes swing to the direction of the voice. Manon. _God, is the whole fucking Palace coming to see them off?_

“Manon. What – I’m sorry, what?” Idriss’s voice wavers with uncertainty, instantly soft. Oh god. The big fucking softie. He really had to go and fall in love with the Princess. They’re fucked. 

“He’s going with you,” Manon says again as she approaches them, smiling briefly at Lucas before coming to stand next to Eliott and facing off against Idriss.

“That’s not a good idea–” Idriss begins.

“Because I’m going too,” Manon finishes.

Eliott looks just as surprised by the turn of events. This clearly wasn’t planned by the two. He recovers quickly however, turning back to Idriss and crossing his arms with a smug smile.

“Manon,” Idriss tries, speaking gently and Lucas knows they’ve lost before he even truly begins, “we’re just going for some drinks at a bar. It’s nothing special. But it’s not the sort of situation you should be in.”

“Situation?” Manon smiles at him looking charmed. She knows she’s won this argument. Lucas is sure of it. He’s as sure of it as he is that the look on Manon’s face as she speaks to Idriss suggests perhaps this isn’t as one-sided an affair as Idriss believes. “We’re friends going for an evening out. That hardly sounds like a situation to me.” Idriss opens his mouth to protest but Manon speaks again before he’s able, “Besides, you’ll be there to look after me, right?” Idriss nods somewhat reluctantly. “And we’ll all be there to look after Eliott as well.” Her eyes land briefly on Lucas and he wants to openly protest but that would mean acknowledging Eliott’s general existence and he’d really rather not do that at the moment.

“That sounds like a plan to me.” Eliott pulls Manon into his side with an arm wrapped around her. “An excellent plan.” He pecks her on the cheek and they smile at one another happily.

“Fuck.” It’s muttered beneath Idriss’s breath but it’s as good as surrender. They all know it.

“Perfect.” Manon grabs Idriss’s arm and pulls him towards the door with a mischievous smile. “I’ve never seen you dance. I’ve heard it’s quite something.”

Idriss pushes Eliott’s shoulder as Manon’s pulls him past. “What lies has he been telling you about me? I’m all natural rhythm. He’s just jealous. I’m an amazing dancer.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” She grins.

Lucas moves to follow, keeping his eyes on Idriss’s back and is summarily stopped by a hand on his chest. He dips his head to look down at it and Eliott swiftly pulls it back with a hushed apology.

“Sorry. Sorry. I just wanted to talk to you for a second.”

Lucas sighs deeply and turns to look at Eliott. Might as well get this over with now. Then he can drink, find someone to fuck at the bar, and forget Eliott exists.

“Fine. What did you want to say?”

Eliott looks taken aback by Lucas’s agreement, as though he expected further argument. “Oh ok. Well, yes, um,” Lucas waits impatiently as Eliott sputters, “I just felt I should apologize for earlier today.”

“Felt you should?” Lucas lets the irritation he feels bleed into his tone.

“Wanted to,” Eliott quickly clarifies. “I wanted to apologize. Charles was terribly rude, I know.”

“Charles was?” Lucas stares at him incredulous. He’s apologizing for Charles?

“Yes?” Eliott brows pull together in confusion. “He shouldn’t have spoken to you in that manner. He’s a bit of a difficult character.”

“A difficult character.” This is not happening. He wants to shake Eliott. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“Yes.” Eliott sounds frustrated now. “Why do you keep repeating everything I’m saying?”

Lucas ignores the question. “Charles is a piece of shit.”

“Lucas,” Eliott cautions, voice stern, “he is a member of the British Royal Family. I know you have a different way of looking at the world, but you can’t speak of him that way. Not here.”

“A different way of looking at the world? How’s that? You mean an expectation of common decency? An expectation that friends stand up for one another? An expectation that men don’t get to wield power like a weapon, a weapon to use against women who can’t say no?”

“Wait – what?” Eliott looks shocked. “Against women? Who? What happened?”

Lucas scoffs. “I’m not telling you shit, Eliott. You lost that right when you defended him.”

“I never defended him,” Eliott denies. “I got him away from you. I removed him from a situation where he could have easily demanded you be fired. That wouldn’t have been a demand that went through me, you know that right? That would have gone to my mother. You would have been gone by the end of the day.”

Lucas… had not considered the situation like that. Even so…

“You were a prick. You didn’t have to be such a prick.” Lucas hates the way it feels to admit it, that it bothered him, got to him, that something Eliott did actually _hurt_ him. It makes him feel out of control in a way he hasn’t truly felt in over ten years.

“I’m sorry.” Eliott is sincere, looking openly upset, as though only just now realizing how his own behaviour affected Lucas. “I don’t say it as an excuse but it’s a complicated situation with Charles – with the way I have to deal with him. I only wanted to get him away from you.”

Lucas can feel his angry resolve crumble like sand. “Whatever,” he tries for an eye roll, “don’t go thinking your good opinion means anything to me.”

A tentative smile starts to form on Eliott’s face. “No, I’d never be so bold as to think my opinion – good or otherwise – had any effect on you.”

Lucas nods. “That’s right. The day you’re able to name the world’s top ten rock songs is the day I start taking you seriously.”

“Top ten?!” Eliott exclaims incredulous. “That’s so many! And besides, how would one even judge that? It would be different for everyone.”

“Yes. And I’m the judge of what’s best. All I know is quality, Eliott. I accept no less.” Lucas replies self-importantly and moves to the door, pausing and motioning for Eliott to join.

Eliott snorts with a laugh. “The last time I brought you lunch you insisted that processed cheese was far superior to quality cheddar cheese. I’m not sure I trust these standards of yours.”

 _The last time he brought him lunch_. The statement brings a sharp reminder of the lunch Eliott missed today and why. A reminder that feels a little like a punch to the gut. Lucas ignores the wave of nausea that comes with it.

“You haven’t lived until you’ve experienced processed sliced cheese, Princeling. You just wait. Next time a British Crown Prince cancels dinner because his dick's about to fall off, we’ll have a grilled cheese party in the kitchen and you’ll see what’s what.”

Eliott freezes where they’re walking through the courtyard towards the back lot where Idriss’s car awaits. Lucas stops and turns to look at him curiously.

“What?”

“Holy s–” Eliott’s mouth is agape as he stares at Lucas. “It was you.”

“What was me?” He feigns confusion, knowing the exact conclusion Eliott has just leapt to.

“What happened to the Prince. It was you.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Lucas doesn’t attempt to hide his smile. “Maybe the Prince just needs a little advice when it comes to his lube selection. Allergic reactions are a thing, you know?”

“Lube…” Eliott’s eyebrows seem to find new heights on his forehead. “It was the… lube?”

“Oh.” Lucas might have miscalculated that. “Well you see,” He uses his most patronizing voice – humour is the best deflection, “lube is a thing some of us gents use to ease the glide you know. I can tell you all about it later. Unless you’d rather I show than tell.” He winks with an exaggerated lascivious look. 

“You are…” Eliott’s just… looking at him. Lucas isn’t sure what to make of that look, “so much trouble.”

“So much trouble? Or _in_ so much trouble?”

“I haven’t decided.” But he’s smiling as he shakes his head in… well, Lucas is going to say he’s shaking it in awe. Lucas has been known to have that effect.

“Well,” Lucas motions for them to continue walking and Eliott falls in line next to him, “you can decide at the bar. I gotta say, I like my chances.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, I’m very charming, you know? A good time if you will.”

“You say that like I’m not a good time.”

“Well you are welcome to prove yourself tonight, Princeling.”

Eliott hums. “Ok.” A pause. “Speaking of which, you didn’t mess with my lube did you? I like my dick the way it is thank you very much.”

Lucas chokes on his own saliva. When he’s able to regain breath, bent over and still coughing up a lung, he looks back up at Eliott to see the cheeky bastard grinning, looking all too self-satisfied.

“Oh, it’s going to be like that is it?” Lucas wheezes. Eliott nods, eyebrows raised in challenge. “C’mon sassafras, you dirty bugger. Idriss is waiting and I’m not discussing you and lube in the same context until I’ve had at least a few drinks in me.”

“Sounds fun.” Eliott wiggles his eyebrows, looking absolutely ridiculous and just…

“So much trouble,” Lucas repeats back. Eliott grins delighted. _So much trouble._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: surrealsunday
> 
> \- Wtfock decided to come for my throat with a few scenes I'd already written. So no, nothing in this fic is inspired by wtfock (like the 'name one of their songs' moment). All I have to say is I WROTE IT BEFORE IT AIRED GODDAMMIT WTFOCK. 
> 
> \- Apologies to Michel Biel for using some of his pics for Charles IG in an illustration of him being an asshole... nothing against the actor... he just, you know, was cast in the role of a complete asshole. 
> 
> \- Finally, the youth shelter is modeled after a youth shelter where I live in Canada. They accept youth ages 12 - 24. So shelters might differ in France but it felt best to model it after an organization I was familiar with. 
> 
> Next chapter coming probably early to mid next week!


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy the new chapter as much as I've enjoyed reading everyone's comments, messages, tags, etc. They make me so, sooooo happy and I appreciate the hell out of every single one. 
> 
> Warning: Brian (Maxence's pet snake) exists in this universe and I know some people are petrified of snakes. He is mentioned in writing this chapter, no images (yet - I will warn when those are coming). 
> 
> Chapter heading graphic courtesy of Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr)!
> 
> Ok.... so... *drops chapter, runs away*

* * * *

* * * *

For being such an enormous city, Paris can seem far too small, most particularly the area Lucas thinks of as _his._ They’re not even in the bar five minutes when they run into Mary. Hilariously it’s Eliott she notices first.

“Posh boy!” She shrieks and charges towards him. Lucas sees Idriss move and, fearing for Mary’s actual life, he steps in, placing himself in front of Eliott and raising a placating hand towards Idriss.

“Mary, darling!” Lucas smiles. “You stalking me now?”

She comes to an abrupt halt in front of Lucas, disappointment instantly overtaking her expression.

“Ugh, Lallemant.” She motions back towards Eliott. “You seriously never leave your boy alone now? Can’t a girl just say hi?”

Lucas feels Eliott move closer, up against his shoulder. “He’s not my boy. He is however _his_ boy.” He motions to where Idriss stands tensely off to the side, Manon holding steady to his arm. “So, you best behave yourself tonight, Mary.”

Mary turns her eyes to Idriss and gives him an appreciate glance over. “Well, aren’t you a tall drink of water.”

“I’m not _his_ boy,” Eliott protests, bumping against Lucas’s shoulder with a little more force and moving to Lucas’s side so he’s no longer blocked, drawing Mary’s eyes back to him. “Stop talking about me like I’m property.”

“That’s right, babe, you tell ‘im!” Mary laughs. “Don’t let this prick push you around.” Lucas is pretty sure his sigh could be heard from Canada.

“Mary, it’s lovely to see you again,” Eliott continues stepping forward with a smile. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Lucas exhales sharing a look with Idriss.

“Well aren’t you just my knight in shining armour,” Mary squeals. “I haven’t had any luck with the losers here tonight. Let’s go babe.” She holds out a hand which Eliott happily takes.

Lucas sees Idriss move forward to follow but he’s stopped by Manon holding steadfast to his arm.

“Eliott,” she calls out and her brother stops his progress to turn and look towards her, “you’ll be careful?”

Eliott smiles, nodding. They look at one another for a moment and Lucas has the distinct impression there is a silent conversation taking place. Manon nods and Eliott turns to continue to the bar with Mary.

Manon pulls Idriss in the opposite direction announcing that they’re going to dance and Idriss doesn’t resist her long, throwing a significant look over his shoulder at Lucas before continuing after her.

Well fuck. Lucas takes stock. Idriss and Manon move to the dance floor. He notices that’s where Basile, Yann, Daphne, and Arthur have ended up as well. Emma is… nowhere to be seen… meaning she’s likely hooking up with Alex somewhere. And Eliott… at the bar… with someone Lucas trusts only as far as he could throw her, meaning far enough in most circumstances, but not in this one. God this night is not turning out at all as he wanted.

From the corner of his eye he notices Chloe approaching and turns towards her. She’s sporting a giddy smile, turning her phone in her hand and hurrying toward him.

“Hey, what’s got you looking so chipper all of the sudden? Get laid since I last saw you?” He asks her with a wink.

She grins. “Not yet.”

“Yet?” Lucas’s eyebrows climb his forehead. “Well that sounds like you’ve made yourself some plans for the evening.”

“Something like that.” She bites her lip, looking down for a minute before returning her gaze to Lucas. “You’ll say bye to the others for me? Let them know I left?”

“You’re leaving? We just got here!” Lucas scans the space around them but doesn’t notice anyone who looks like they’re waiting for Chloe. “You’re not taking off with some random are you? You’re being safe, yeah?”

She laughs lightly. “Yes mom, I’m being safe. And it’s someone I know. Don’t worry. I’ll see you on Monday.” She leans forward to kiss him on the cheek before turning and hurrying off.

He watches her go and while the idea of her leaving on her own to hook-up with some unknown person, leaves Lucas feeling somewhat jittery, he does trust Chloe to make her own decisions when it comes to her sex life – and safety. Besides which, he’s got others here tonight he has to say he’s significantly more concerned for in that regard. When he makes his way to join Eliott and Mary at the bar, he can see they’ve already got a line of shots in front of them. There's a woman down the bar staring directly at Eliott, her expression contemplative, as though she's trying to place where she knows him from. Lucas stares at her until she meets his eye. She jumps slightly at the glare Lucas is leveling her way and quickly looks away.

“Lucas! We’re doing shots!” Eliott shouts excitedly when Lucas sidles up next to them. He already sounds half-sloshed. Which is not possible of course. He’s only been separated from Lucas for a few minutes. Certainly not enough time to have made any headway into getting drunk. But Lucas has a feeling Eliott drunk won’t be all that different than exactly this: Eliott times ten, a little hyper, a little more relaxed, a lot dorky. Lucas had hoped for it honestly. He’d just rather not feel responsible for Eliott’s personal safety while he’s introduced all of Eliott’s ‘night on the town’ quirks.

“Shots, hm?” Lucas raises an eyebrow at Mary. “Couldn’t have started off with some mixed drinks? Eased him into it?”

“Don’t be such an old man,” Mary scoffs.

“Old man?!” What is with everyone picking on his age when he’s younger than any of them? “I’m younger than you!”

“Then act like it! You’re being fucking lame.” She turns and promptly downs a shot.

“You know it’s not polite to point out a ladies age,” Eliott sniffs. “And you _are_ acting like a party pooper.”

“ _Party pooper_.” Lucas did not sign up for this. “Fine. Give me one.”

Eliott grins happily, pushing a shot glass down towards him. “Don’t look so frowny,” he laughs.

“Frowny? Wow that elite education sure is failing you, isn’t it?” Lucas throws back the shot. Vodka. God it’s just like Mary to order straight _vodka_ shots. He shudders as it burns its way down his throat. 

“Frowny suits you.” There’s a mischievous tilt to Eliott’s smile. “It’s cute. Much more suiting than dour … or morose… severe… austere…”

“Alright, alright. You’re a walking thesaurus I get it.” He reaches for another shot. “More to the point, I believe you just told me I’m cute.”

“How is that to the point?” Eliott laughs. “Also, I didn’t think you’d take it as a compliment. I would have expected you to complain – claim to be rough and manly instead.”

“I can be all of those things. Don’t be so close-minded, sasspup.” Lucas grins as Eliott scoffs. “I’m cute. We all know that.” Eliott rolls his eyes. _Ten_. “Also sexy as fuck.”

A man catches Lucas’s eye, one person down from where Mary is now deep into a bowl of peanuts. He’s all dark hair, dark eyes, dark stubble, and bulging muscle. Maybe early 30s. Not Lucas’s usual type but then… that’s exactly what makes him perfect. He’s clearly listening to their conversation and he meets Lucas’s eye. Lucas holds his gaze. One. Two. Three. The man doesn’t look away. Lucas smirks. Got him.

Eliott’s saying something and Lucas tunes him back in just as he continues. “Anyways,” Eliott reaches for a shot glass, fiddling with it and slightly sloshing the contents on the bar top. “You act like I’ve never had a drink before. Never gotten drunk. Or partied.”

“Oh yeah,” Lucas’s eyes fall on him, full of skepticism. “You definitely seem like the type to be falling out of bars drunk every weekend like your friend, Charles.”

A crease appears between Eliott’s eyebrows. “He’s not my friend. And I don’t have to have been falling down drunk in bars to have experience. I’m just saying,” he looks frustrated, “I’m not some innocent. You’ve said that yourself. You don’t have to baby me.”

That’s actually… exactly what Lucas needed to hear.

“Yeah? You’re a big boy, can take of yourself, don’t need your hand held, that about cover it?”

“Yes.” Eliott looks up at him with a playful little smile. “You said I’m trouble, right? So – so, you don’t need to be so careful with me.”

“You two should just fuck and get it over with.” Mary says it without looking up, shoveling peanuts in her mouth and taking a swig from a glass filled with a deep, amber liquid.

“What?!” Eliott’s voice swings to a pitch Lucas hasn’t heard before, something that reaches near dog-whistle levels. “We’re not – that’s not – I mean, I wasn’t –”

“She’s just teasing you, sassling. Don’t sweat it.” Lucas looks back to his hook-up-to-be. The man tilts his head slightly in an unspoken question. Lucas subtly nods in reply. “Besides, got another one on the line for that.” 

“What?” Eliott looks up at him quickly, cheeks still stained with a blush no doubt caused by Mary’s teasing. “What do you –” His head turns to follow Lucas’s gaze, where the man has stood and turned to wait for Lucas. “Oh.”

“Alright then I’ll leave you two miscreants to it then.” He looks back at Eliott briefly as he stands. “You’ll be alright, yeah? No need for hand-holding? Can hold your liquor and all that?” He still feels mildly weird about leaving Eliott alone. But Eliott had said it himself, he doesn’t need babying. And it’s been… a while… too long since Lucas had let off some steam. He feels pent up and ready to blow. It’s been worse lately. He just… he needs some release. With someone faceless. With someone who doesn’t matter.

“But –” Eliott looks back at the man before standing and putting himself in front of Lucas. “You’re just going to hook-up with – with _him_?” Eliott says it like Lucas has just made plans to fuck a gremlin. While he might not be Lucas’s usual type, Lucas could _definitely_ do worse. As a matter of fact, if he doesn’t get moving, he’s positive his potential hook-up will find a better option with little difficulty.

“That’s the plan.” Lucas moves to step around but Eliott moves with him, a hand grabbing Lucas’s shoulder before he drops it back to his side just as quickly. Ok… _what the fuck_. Lucas looks up at Eliott incredulous before tilting his head to see around Eliott’s shoulder at the man who is thankfully still waiting at a bit of a distance now, clearly growing impatient. Lucas motions for him to wait a moment more.

“But – but he’s just so…” Eliott flaps a frenetic hand in the air.

“Hot.” Mary pipes in, turned around in her stool now as though they’ve just now met her standard for entertainment and as such, she’s deemed them worthy of her full attention. “That’s the word you’re looking for. You don’t want him, I’ll have a go, Lallemant.”

Lucas doesn’t bother looking at her as he answers. “Think he’s looking for dick, love. Mine specifically.” He raises his eyebrows in challenge at Eliott. “You gonna let me by?” 

Eliott exhales clearly frustrated. “I thought you were going to drink with – with us,” he motions to include Mary.

“You said yourself, you don’t need your hand held.” Lucas doesn’t get him. What does he want? What is it he expects? That Lucas should wait on him hand and foot, meanwhile he can do whatever the fuck he wants and ditch lunch plans whenever the mood strikes? That he’s the one always calling the shots?

“Is that the only reason you’d – just because you think I need someone to watch over me?” Eliott looks far too distressed for what really shouldn’t be this dramatic a conversation. He searches Lucas’s eyes as though he’ll find an answer that satisfies. Lucas has just about had it.

“I’ll see you later.” Lucas moves decisively around Eliott this time, not allowing him the opportunity to impede his movements any further.

He grabs the man’s arm when he’s close enough, pulling him through the crowd. Giving him no opportunity to speak. Not looking back. Everything feels spoiled now. Tainted and wrong. _Fucking Eliott_.

Neither of them hesitates the moment they’re inside a bathroom stall. Their movements are nearly clinical with their precision and Lucas couldn’t feel less in the mood. _Goddamn fucking Eliott_. The man drops to his knees. It takes longer than it should to swell in his mouth, especially for how long it’s been. Almost a month since he’s been with someone. But Lucas can’t stop thinking about Eliott’s wounded expression, his eyes grey-blue in the dim bar light and filled with hurt. His lips pursed in frustration. Lucas groans as the man takes him deeper into his mouth. The way Eliott’s lower lip had pushed out in a pout, wet and shining in the dim lights of the bar. So fucking stubborn. Lucas’s breathing grows more labored and he shuts his eyes, leaning over the man to rest his head forward on his arm against the wall. The way Eliott’s nose had scrunched with irritation. He gets riled up so easily. The man’s hand matches the movements of his mouth, tight and hot around Lucas. God the way the veins in Eliott’s arms stretched against his skin as his muscles flexed when he grabbed Lucas. _Fuck_. Unbidden he speaks the word out loud and the pace of the man’s movements increase. Lucas opens his eyes and looks down at the mouth swallowing him. At the hand gripping him tightly. The long fingers. The gold ring on the middle finger. Eliott’s pale fingers. Lucas comes with a harsh exhale and the man pulls off, pulling him through it. It’s not a particularly good orgasm. Lucas too often hears men in particular claim an orgasm is an orgasm is an orgasm. He pities anyone who would think so. But it’s a release. What he wanted. What he came here for. It _should_ feel satisfying. It should. _Fucking Eliott_.

The man moves off his knees, standing and moving forward to kiss Lucas. Lucas ducks his head to the side, dodging the kiss and pressing his mouth up against the man’s jaw instead, unzipping his pants. Lucas pulls him off quickly and efficiently, the man coming into his hand with a curse in no time at all. It’s dispassionate. Nothing particularly hot about it. But Lucas isn’t the type to leave someone wanting. He grabs toilet paper to clean off, flushing it and zipping up his pants. He turns and unlatches the stall door. The man’s hand on his shoulder stops him before he’s able to exit the small space.

“That’s it?” He asks gruff and out of breath.

“What’d you expect?” Lucas turns to look at him. “You thought bathroom hookup and we’d what – leave holding hands?”

The man smiles unkindly. “That pretty boy at the bar then? He the only one you take home?”

It’s not worth elucidating. “He’s the only one I’m taking home, yes. You mind getting your hand off me?”

The man removes his hand. “Can’t be all that satisfying with him if you’re in here with me can it? How’s he feel about that?”

“A lot better than you’re going to feel unless you shut the fuck up about him.” Lucas releases the door to turn back fully towards the man.

“Alright, alright.” The man chuckles throwing his hands up in pretense of surrender. “No need to get tough or you’ll get me worked up again.” He licks his lips and all Lucas feels is disgust. “Just sayin’, if you wanted more than one go, I’d be happy to take you home.” Make that revulsion.

“Thanks,” Lucas does his best to keep his overwhelming distaste out of his expression, “but I’m good.”

The man shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He pushes past Lucas and out of the stall, leaving the washroom without washing. Ugh. Fuck. Post-orgasm regret is the worst. Lucas moves to the sink and thoroughly washes his hands. He splashes his face with some water while he’s at it, raising his head to look at himself in the mirror. He looks untouched, exactly as he imagines he did when he walked in. And he feels just as pent-up. Goddammit. What a waste of an orgasm. He exhales heavily.

When he makes his way from the bathroom, he scans the bar for Eliott and Mary. They’re not there. Instead he spots them on the dance floor with the others. They’re all dancing in some sort of group frenzy, all flailing arms and chaotic movements, no real rhythm to the lot of them. Lucas can’t help but smile at the sight. Manon and Idriss are off to one side, dancing a little more closely together than the others. Idriss at least has rhythm, Lucas thinks as he watches them. They move fluidly together, precisely on beat with the song, not too close to one another and yet in perfect sync. The song changes. The beat slows to something smoother, more sultry. Sexy. Couples move closer together, taking advantage of the opportunity to grind into one another while others disperse.

Lucas watches with interest as Idriss’s movements pause awkwardly. He steps back to create further distance between himself and Manon but she doesn’t allow it. She follows him, pressing into his chest, arms coming up around his neck while Idriss jaw drops and his body seems to freeze entirely. She looks up at him for a moment before turning, pressing her back against his chest and returning her arms up and around his neck. She moves to the beat, nothing particularly scandalous about her movements, especially compared to others surrounding them on the dance floor. She’s swaying more than anything else. For the way Idriss reacts however you’d think she just pressed up against him naked. His arms hover in the air beside her for an extended beat before they come to rest on the sides of her waist. He begins moving to the beat with her, his eyes never leaving her. Manon’s eyes shut at the contact and she tilts her head back and to the side, exposing the side of her face and neck to Idriss. His head drops slightly, side of his mouth pressing up against the side of her hair. Lucas exhales. They’re beautiful together in all honesty. They’d make a striking couple. If that was at all within the realm of possibility. But it’s not. And Idriss knows that as well as Lucas. And well, Lucas can see this is going to be trouble.

Speaking of… Lucas redirects his attention to where he last saw Eliott. His eyes don’t struggle to locate him. Eliott and Mary are making a bit of a ridiculous spectacle of themselves, dancing together in an exaggerated grind, giggling and embellishing their movements. Lucas shakes his head with a grin and turns to make his way to the bar. Clearly, he left Eliott in good hands. He finds Yann and Basile at the bar and leans up against the bar top next to them.

“Hey,” Yann greets, clapping him on the back. “Where you been?”

Lucas shrugs. “Around.” He motions for the bartender and orders a beer.

“Don’t tell me you already found someone to hook up with?” Basile exclaims, a mix of jealousy and shock in his tone. “How the fuck do you always do that?”

Lucas accepts his beer from the bartender, handing over cash, before he turns back to Basile and Yann with a smile that feels a touch too forced. “You have seen me, right?”

“Fuck off!” Yann laughs. “God. No one does egotistical asshole quite like you.”

He’s not wrong. “It’s a gift.”

“What about your Prince? Where’d you leave him when you were off dicking around?” Yann asks.

“ _My_ boy? _My_ Prince? Why the fuck does everyone keep saying shit like that?! He’s on the dance floor where all of _you_ left him, I guess.” Lucas’s skin prickles.

“I don’t know,” Yann replies with a chuckle, “maybe because he follows you around like a lost puppy,” answering Lucas’s former question.

“He does not,” Lucas dismisses.

“He definitely does,” Bas feels the need to unnecessarily add. “Like every day showing up in the kitchen and –” 

Daphne bounces up and interrupts him. “Sweetie!” She squeals and latches herself onto Basile. “Let’s go dance some more!”

Basile pecks her on the lips. “Lemme just finish this beer, babe.” He reaches for his beer and Daphne turns her attention to Lucas.

“Eliott was looking for you. He’s totally wasted.” She says with a delighted giggle.

“What?” He’d looked a little wild on the dance floor sure, but not out of control… just like… oh shit, like Eliott times ten. Exactly what Lucas expected him to be when drunk. “How much did he drink?”

Daphne shrugs unconcerned. “I’m not sure. He kept going to the bar with that girl. Now he keeps asking for you.”

“He’s asking for me?” Lucas points to himself stupidly. He can _feel_ the smug in Yann’s grin as he stares at him from the side.

“Yes,” Daphne nods and begins pulling Basile away from the bar now that he seems to have finished his beer. “It was cute at first. Now it’s just annoying. He won’t shut up and he’s asking everyone to go find you."

If Lucas is honest, that sounds a bit concerning. Eliott must be completely sloshed to be asking so adamantly for Lucas. Especially when Idriss is there as well. Though, he supposes Idriss might be a little busy. Fuck.

Lucas stands and feels Yann’s eyes still on him, burning at the side of his head. “Not a word,” he directs at his friend without turning to look at him. He hears Yann laugh as he walks away, making his way over to the railing overlooking the dance floor. He scans the floor but doesn’t see Eliott anywhere. Idriss and Manon are at a table at the side, huddled together and talking, but no Eliott. Fuck. Lucas moves further along the railing, scanning the crowd. He can’t see Mary either. Goddammit. How is it he’s the only one looking out for the fucking Prince of France? How the hell did Eliott become his responsibility? What if someone recognized him? What if Idriss wasn't there to protect him because he's so caught up in Manon? What if Eliott is in trouble? Mary would look out for him but she doesn't even know who Eliott is! He never should have left him alone. Lucas can feel his anxiety build like steam pressing against a valve. Where the fuck is he?!

Arms wrapping around his neck are his answer. “LUCAS!” Eliott squeals burying his face into Lucas’s neck from behind. Lucas’s heart beats rapidly against his rib-cage and adrenaline pumps through his veins. He couldn’t say whether it’s more the result of fear at thinking he’d lost Eliott, or the surprise of someone grabbing him unexpectedly. Whatever the reason, he’s thankful alcohol and exhaustion have slowed his reflexes and his instinct is only to turn around, grabbing Eliott by the waist to push him back from his own body. Eliott resists, keeping his arms locked around Lucas’s neck, and exaggerating a pout as he raises his head.

“Fucks sake.” Lucas takes in his dilated eyes, his body loose and lax, smile soft and easy. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Five. No three.” Eliott answers, face scrunching in concentration.

“Three what?” Lucas asks perplexed.

“What?” Eliott replies looking even more confused. “Hey,” he adds with a grin. “You know what we should do? Shots!”

“Oh, fuck me.” Lucas groans.

“Ok,” Eliott giggles moving closer.

“You are completely gone, aren’t you?” He asks holding Eliott securely around the waist so he can’t push up any closer to Lucas, despite his efforts to do just that.

“Thank god,” comes a third voice. Lucas turns his head to see Mary coming up beside Eliott. “He fucking ran away from me the second he spotted you. Jesus. It’s like trying to keep track of a toddler.”

Eliott uses Lucas’s distraction to move closer, wrapping an arm around Lucas’s shoulders and pressing up against his side as he turns to look at Mary. “I had to beat you to him, Mary!” His hand moves up into Lucas’s hair and it takes everything in Lucas’s power not to push into the touch. “You would have taken him for yourself!”

Mary scoffs loudly. “Believe me, you can have him. Lallemant,” she tips her chin at Lucas, “he’s yours now.”

Eliott knocks his forehead into the side of Lucas’s head with a happy sound and then leaves it there, pressing their heads together. Lucas should have expected he’d be a tactile drunk. Eliott is someone who prefers to express affection with physical touch. The type to hug the gardener thank you instead of just verbally acknowledging his efforts. Lucas had literally seen that particular scene for himself. And even completely sober, Eliott receives affection like a flower starved for sun, turning into it any time it’s offered and blooming under the attention. It’s something Lucas has noticed more and more in the short time they’ve spent together, and like all aspects of Eliott’s personality under the influence of alcohol, it’s magnified.

“Alright drunkard.” Lucas turns, moving one hand to Eliott’s shoulder to push him back and hold him at a slight distance. “I’d say it’s about time we got you home.”

“ _Noooooo_ ,” Eliott whines.

“Eliott,” Lucas begins with an extraordinary amount of patience, “you’ve had enough. And I want to leave.”

“No,” Eliott shakes his head and his arms move from around Lucas’s neck, sliding down his chest until his hands latch to the bottom of Lucas’s shirt, twisting and tugging at it. “We can leave but don’t call me that. You don’t call me that.”

“What?” Lucas shakes his head confused. “Eliott what are you talking about? What did I call you?”

Eliott looks up from his hands still tugging at Lucas’s shirt. “That.” He pouts. “You said, drunk – drunk-red.”

“Drunkard?” Lucas asks smile spreading across his face. This adorable drunk bastard. _God_.

“Yeah,” Eliott tugs at his shirt for emphasis. “And my name. You don’t –” He’s interrupted by a hiccup. “I don’t like it as much.”

“You don’t like your name?” Lucas laughs.

“No,” Eliott shakes his head. “I mean, yes. I do. I just don’t like it as much as when you call me the other things.”

“I call you a lot of things, Princeling. You’re going to have to be more specific.” Lucas’s cheeks ache with how hard he’s smiling.

“That!” Eliott shouts excitedly. “You call me that. Princeling. And sass… stuff. And I like it more.”

“Sass stuff?” Lucas chuckles.

“Yes.” Eliott nods, earnest eyes, expression as serious as he can manage with alcohol pumping through his veins. “When you think I’m funny and sassy and stuff.”

“And stuff.” Lucas’s grin softens as he looks at him and he reaches forward to clap a hand to the side of Eliott’s neck, clasping it roughly and pressing a thumb into his jaw. Eliott freezes at the touch. “This is how I know you’re really drunk. Your vocabulary has gone to shit. I need to get you home. You gonna keep fighting or can we leave now, sasspup?”

Eliott brightens, his smile instantly returning. “Ok. Yes, we can leave. We’re going together?”

Lucas laughs, pulling his hand back from Eliott as he turns to scan the dance floor for the others. “Yeah, you better believe I’m not letting you loose into the night by yourself.” He can’t see Idriss or Manon anywhere. He sees Yann and Arthur at a table. The others are likely spread throughout the space. Well, they can all fend for themselves. He pulls out his phone to order a car. “We’ll go ahead on our own. Everyone else can find their own way home. And Idriss can take care of Manon.” Lucas looks up from him phone to see Eliott’s eyes on him, a soft smile on his face. “What?”

“You’re so nice. You take care of everyone.” Eliott’s hand finds its way back to Lucas’s hair. He brushes a few stray pieces away from Lucas’s face, running his hand back up and into the strands. Goosebumps rise on Lucas’s skin. It’s definitely time to go.

Lucas pulls Eliott’s hand gently from his hair, bringing it down in between them and squeezing before releasing. Eliott doesn’t let go however, holding steadfast to Lucas’s hand with a determined scrunch of his nose. Lucas knows a battle lost and turns with his hand firmly in Eliott’s, pulling the Prince along behind him. He feels Eliott’s other hand come to latch onto the back of his shirt. At least this way he doesn’t have to keep turning around to make sure Eliott’s following – like a lost puppy indeed.

* * * *

* * * *

“Lucas,” Eliott’s head lolls towards him in the back of the car transporting them. “Can I ask you something?”

Lucas sighs, tucking his phone back into his pocket. He’d specifically told Eliott to stay quiet while in the car. That his plan was to have them dropped off on a street parallel to the back of the Palace grounds. That they’d walk the rest of the way. And maybe by some luck of fate, the driver would not realize the significance of the person he was driving. Or that the very significant person he was driving was completely sloshed.

“What?” Lucas asks keeping his voice quiet and hoping Eliott will do the same.

Eliott seems to realize Lucas’s reason for doing so, even in his inebriated state, and he shuffles his head resting against the back bench a little closer, turning his body towards Lucas. He’s curled on the bench and it makes him look much smaller than he is, his long legs tucked in the circle of his arms, and body huddled around them. He speaks in a whisper, “What’s your favourite song?”

That hadn’t at all been what Lucas was expecting. “My favourite song?”

“Mmhmm.” Eliott nods, blinking sleepily. “I want to know.”

Lucas loosens his seatbelt enough to shuffle his body towards Eliott, lowering his head to lay next to Eliott’s, staring up at the roof of the car as he answers. “Stairway to Heaven. Led Zeppelin.”

“Why?” Eliott’s hand returns to Lucas’s shirt, pulling at a loose thread.

“It’s my mom’s favourite.” Lucas swallows and wills his voice to remain steady.

“Really?”

Lucas can feel Eliott’s eyes on him. He keeps his own on the roof of the car. “There’s a lady who’s sure all that glitters is gold. And she’s buying a stairway to heaven. When she gets there she knows if the stores are closed, with a word she can get what she came for.” He swallows. “She’s buying a stairway to heaven.”

“I don’t know it,” Eliott whispers and Lucas turns at the melancholy in his voice, meeting his eyes and recognizing the sadness he sees there.

“I’ll play it for you.”

Eliott smiles, just a little. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Where’s your mom?” Eliott asks it with innocent curiosity but it has blood pumping rapidly through Lucas’s veins nevertheless.

“She’s not well.” Lucas wouldn’t have predicted he’d be so honest. But it somehow feels right. In the back of this car with Eliott. Inhibitions dimmed by alcohol or the hour of the night he doesn’t know. “She’s in a medical care facility.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Eliott whispers and Lucas knows he wouldn’t have asked if not for the alcohol loosening his tongue. Sober Eliott would be far more attuned to what an invasive question that is – that perhaps Lucas wouldn’t want to answer.

“She’s not _wrong_ … she’s mentally ill.” He swallows heavily. “They’ve diagnosed her a million different ways over the years. Sleep disorders, bipolar, schizophrenic… different meds each time. Sometimes they help. Sometimes they don’t. And she doesn't always like to take her medication.”

“Yeah,” Eliott whispers. “Sometimes I think I hate my pills. I hate that I have to take them. And when I feel good, I don’t want to. But it always ends in me feeling worse. When I don’t.”

“Your meds?” Lucas turns his head to look at Eliott, wondering if perhaps in his drunken state the Prince has lost the thread of the conversation.

“I’m bipolar.” He whispers it so quietly Lucas would have missed it entirely if not for the fact that their heads are bent so closely together.

 _Bipolar_? “What? I mean – you are?” _Since when?_

“Yes,” Eliott confirms, sorrow clear in his eyes. “They realized when I was fifteen. But they wouldn’t say it like – officially diagnose it until I was sixteen.”

Fifteen? Lucas would have been thirteen. His world tilts on its axis before it rights itself again, this time in a new order. “That’s really young.”

“Yeah.” Eliott yawns. “It was bad for a while. It’s better now.”

“It is?” Lucas watches him and can’t help but wonder if Eliott would be telling him this sober. The uncertainty leaves him feeling distinctly uneasy. Is this really something Eliott wants him to know? Or will he regret his honesty in the much harsher light of morning?

“It’s not always but… yeah. It’s better. Better than it was.” He meets Lucas’s eyes, speaking with eager sincerity, “It will get better for your mom too. It will.”

Lucas looks away, back towards the roof. He nods. He doesn’t clarify how long it’s been. How many years. How much and how little has changed in that time. That not everyone gets ‘better’. Not everyone learns to manage it. That it’s ok that they don’t. That Lucas loves her anyways. A glance out the window tells him they’re nearing the spot they’ll be dropped off.

“Let’s be quiet now. We’re almost there.”

* * * *

It’s far more of an ordeal to get Eliott up and into his room than Lucas could have ever foreseen. Eliott’s past his initial drunken, happy, energetic buzz and the transition to sleepy, lethargic after-drunk Eliott couldn’t have come at a worse time. The walk across the grounds had consisted of Eliott dragging his feet and Lucas trying to convince him that curling up outside was not as good an idea as Eliott seemed to think it was.

Getting him through the Palace is somehow even worse. It’s as if Eliott has only just now discovered he has long limbs, and as a result, he has no idea how to use them. As coordinated as a newborn fawn, he bumps into _everything_ , flailing dramatically each time, trips on air, and then proceeds to giggle far too loudly at his own antics. Lucas is just thankful Idriss had the foresight to code him into the security system, because having armed guard descend on him as he’s walking a drunken Prince into his bedroom is not something he’s all that eager to explain. And in fact, Lucas is fairly certain such an event would end in more than just a loss of his job.

He breathes a sigh of relief when they reach the hall to the twins’ rooms. “Eliott, which one is yours?” He turns back to look at where Eliott has slumped himself against a wall and is yawning widely. “Eliott!” Lucas whispers as loudly as he dares. “Which room is yours?”

Eliott looks at him with wide eyes before suddenly giggling. “This isn’t how I thought you’d ask.”

Oh Jesus. God help Lucas if Eliott goes from happy, tactile drunk to horny drunk. “Room, Eliott. Which one?”

Eliott wobbles towards him and then past, leading the way to the third door on the left. Lucas notices the room just past Eliott’s has light glowing from the bottom of the closed door and he can hear movement inside. He hopes that means Manon made it safely back. Eliott seems to be having issues with the door handle and with a slight noise of amusement, Lucas presses up against his back, reaching around him to push the door open. Eliott reacts by slumping back into Lucas with a happy sigh, letting Lucas hold his weight. Drunk Eliott doesn’t seem to have any sense of how large he actually is. Lucas steadies Eliott against him before pressing forward, manhandling him until they’re both safely inside the room. Lucas separates them, pushing Eliott gently towards the bed before turning to quietly shut the door. Eliott throws himself face first on the bed with a groan, jacket left in a pile on the floor behind him, and Lucas laughs softly at the sight, following and moving to turn on the bedside lamp.

It’s an elaborate room. Not that Lucas expected any different. Eliott is sprawled to one side of a king-sized bed. Windows span the length of one side of the room, bookshelves lined beneath. A fireplace and lounge area is located on the opposing side of the room from the bed. There’s a small dining table as well. Everything in the room screams luxury and yet there’s a cozy quality to it too. It feels like Eliott.

“Princeling.” He pokes at Eliott’s side. Eliott groans in protest, turning his head to look at Lucas. “You good from here?” Eliott nods. Lucas’s plan is to go bunk down in the garage. The back bench seat of the Chevy is likely to be his chosen bed of the evening. As long as he can rest assured Eliott isn’t going to choke on vomit in his sleep or something. “You’re not going to be sick or anything are you?” Eliott shakes his head. “Ok. I’m going to go then. Alright?” Eliott nods again. He’s going to have a hell of a hangover if he doesn’t drink some water. It’s the least Lucas can do before he goes.

He ducks into the bathroom attached just off the side of Eliott’s room and comes back with a cup of water. “Eliott drink this.” Eliott’s eyes have shut and he grumbles unhappily at being disturbed. Lucas prods his shoulder. “Hey, drink this. C’mon.” One more hard poke and Eliott’s eyes open. His eyes fall to the glass in Lucas’s hand and he tips his head up eagerly, grabbing the cup and quickly swallowing the contents before handing it back to Lucas and slumping back to the bed. Lucas goes to fill it up once more, placing it on the bedside table along with a bottle of pain killers he found in the bathroom’s medicine cabinet.

There are drawings pinned haphazardly to the wall above Eliott’s bed. A cartoon raccoon, a more realistic portrait of Manon, a few other rough still-life drawings. They make Lucas smile. He moves to leave. Pausing at the door and flicking off the overhead light he looks back to Eliott, glowing in the dim light of the bedside lamp. He hasn’t moved. Boots still on, half hanging off the bed. Head nowhere near the pillows. Laying on top of the duvet. Fuck. Lucas wavers, eyes flicking between Eliott and the door before, with an exasperated sigh, he gives in and walks back to the bed.

He starts with Eliott’s boots, pulling them roughly off his feet, before grabbing his socks and giving them the same treatment. Eliott snorts a laugh into the covers. “Tickles.” Lucas barely smothers his own smile. He plunks the boots and socks onto the floor and moves to the head of the bed, pushing at Eliott until with some stubborn grumbling he rolls onto his back.

“You need to get your clothes off and get under the covers, Eliott.” Lucas suggests gently.

Eliott’s eyes widen comically as he stares up at Lucas.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Lucas laughs as quietly as he can manage. “This is a strictly innocent request. You’re just going to be fucking uncomfortable trying to sleep in those skinny-ass jeans.”

Eliott reaches down to undo the pants in question. “They make my butt look good,” he says as he struggles to unbutton them.

Lucas chuckles. “Well those are priorities I can understand.”

“Not like your butt,” Eliott clarifies, stopping in his struggle to stare up at Lucas seriously. “Your butt is –”

“Alright!” Lucas interrupts speaking a little louder than he meant to. He lowers his voice again. “There will be no talk of my butt – _ass_ tonight.”

Eliott grins up at him. He seems to have given up the struggle with his pants. “Ass,” he whispers like a child who’s just discovered a new way to be naughty. He wiggles a little more before huffing pitifully. “I can’t get them off. I think I’ll have to be buried in them.”

Lucas tips his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment and takes a measuring breath. Why did he ever think he was the right person to handle drunk Eliott? _Alone_?! “Ok, let me help.” He moves forward and reaches for Eliott’s pants, flicking the button lose and unzipping them smoothly. Eliott still beneath his hands. Lucas concentrates on nothing more than the task. Eliott raises his hips helpfully as Lucas tugs the pants down, careful not to pull his briefs with them, down his long, muscular legs that flex slightly as they move in an attempt to help. Lucas’s knuckles brush unintentionally against Eliott’s skin and he hears Eliott inhale sharply. One more harsh tug and the jeans come off entirely. Eliott begins struggling with his shirt. Lucas moves towards him and firmly grabbing the bottom of the shirt he pulls it up and roughly off Eliott body. He tosses it towards the pants on the floor. When he turns back Eliott is looking at him with those same wide eyes, mouth parted, cheeks now flushed and chest moving with his quickened breath.

He’s drunk. He’s just drunk and horny. Lucas has certainly been there. It doesn’t mean a thing. “Get under the covers.”

Eliott blinks and fumbles to do as asked, turning on his side once he’s safely ensconced beneath the sheets to look back at Lucas. “Did you have sex with him?”

“What?” Lucas asks staring down at Eliott.

“That man,” Eliott bites his lip as he looks away for a moment, a cross look overtaking his face. “That ugly guy in the bar.”

“He wasn’t ugly.” Lucas rolls his eyes. “And yes. He blew me.”

Eliott’s eyes come back to his, the colour of them near blotted out by the black of his pupil. “Was it good? Was _he_ good?”

This conversation is steering towards absolute disaster. Lucas considers his options. Blunt honesty seems the best choice in hurrying this topic to its end. “He got the job done. And it was head – what’s not to like? It was fine.”

“Fine,” Eliott repeats. “That doesn’t sound like it was very good.”

Nope. No. Not taking this turn down conversational lane with a drunk Eliott. “You need to go to sleep and I need to leave.”

“I’m good.” Eliott answers, voicing rising with stubborn insistence. “I’m really good. With my mouth. You always think I’m so – so innocent but–”

“I don’t think you’re innocent.”

“But I’ve been with guys. And I’m good when I – I like going down–” 

“Eliott, stop talking.” Lucas wishes it sounded stern, but it sounds unquestionably like a plea. “You are going to hate yourself for saying this when you wake up sober tomorrow.”

“I won’t.”

“You _will_.”

Eliott’s bottom lip juts out just slightly in a stubborn little pout but he stays silent. Lucas nods satisfied and turns to go.

“Wait. Where are you going?”

Lucas stops mid-step, body tense as he stares at the door leading to the hallway. “I’m going to find somewhere to sleep. Which is what you’re going to do.” Lucas turns back to look at him. “Sleep.”

“Please stay.” Eliott’s staring at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“No.”

The resolve in Lucas’s voice doesn’t deter Eliott. “Please? Just until I fall asleep? Please? You’ll leave and then it will be weird. I’ll think too much and I won’t sleep. I just – please.”

Lucas stares at him, until with a resigned slump of his shoulders, he moves to sit in a reading chair to the side of Eliott’s bed. “Just until you fall asleep.”

Eliott nods, smiling softly. “Will you play me the song?”

“What?” Lucas asks trying halfheartedly to keep up with Eliott’s drunken thoughts and falling short.

“Stairway to Heaven,” Eliott whispers sleepily. “I want to hear it.”

“Won’t that keep you awake?” Lucas has never been able to fall asleep with music playing.

“No,” Eliott denies, eyes closing. “I like listening to music when I fall asleep.” His eyes blink open again for a moment. “Please?”

Lucas nods and reaches for his phone. He scrolls through his music until he finds it and presses play, turning the volume down until it’s playing softly across the room. He watches Eliott’s face relax as the music plays. His breathing slows and his fingers relax against the sheets. He looks soft and young. Vulnerable. But innocent? Definitely not.

_Yes there are two paths you can go by. But in the long run. There’s still time to change the road you’re on. And it makes me wonder…_

* * * *

His phone buzzing with notifications against the tabletop wakes him. He’s roused to consciousness in a mild panic thinking he’s slept in. Jerking awake Lucas grabs for his phone, blinking rapidly until his eyes finally focus on the screen. What time is it? What day is it? Does he have work? Why the fuck is his neck so stiff? He groans unhappily as he stretches his sore muscles and slowly becomes aware of where he is. Oh shit. _Oh shit_. Eliott’s room. He fell asleep. Dammit this was exactly what he wasn’t supposed to do. He needs to get the fuck out of here before Eliott realizes and… as Lucas’s eyes fall on him, Eliott’s eyes are already wide-open staring back. Well there goes that plan.

“Morning.” Lucas’s voice is little more than a rough rattle of sound and he clears his throat before trying again. “Sorry I must have fallen asleep.”

“It’s ok,” Eliott whispers. Curled on his side with the covers pulled up to his ears and his hands tucked just in front of his chin, he looks small. Defenseless.

“How are you feeling?”

Eliott blinks slowly and licks his lips with a grimace. “I feel like I ate a corpse. A rotting corpse.”

Lucas laughs. “Yeah that sounds about right. If it makes you feel better, my neck feels like I slept crammed in a coffin.”

Eliott’s face furrows in concern. “I’m sorry. You could have slept with me.” His eyes widen as though just realizing what he said. “I mean – I didn’t mean –”

Lucas waves him off with an uneasy laugh. “It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean anything.” He points to the water on the bedside table. “Have some of that. And the painkillers. You’ll feel better.”

Eliott shuffles a little, leaning up on his elbow and raising his head. A hand goes immediately to his forehead, rubbing at his temples and he makes a pitiful sound. “Why are there a million tiny men with pickaxes in my skull right now?” Eliott asks as he reaches for the water, sipping from it slowly.

“You started the night with vodka,” Lucas points out. “That’s exactly what you deserve.” Eliott throws him an unimpressed look over the rim of his water glass. “How much do you remember from last night anyways?” Lucas hates this part. When he remembers everything and the other person admits to having no memory to the events – the things they did, the way they behaved… all the things they said.

Eliott lowers the glass and answers staring down at it. “I wasn’t blackout drunk or anything. I didn’t drink that much. Alcohol just doesn’t react well with my meds and I tend to get a bit… extra loopy I guess. Sometimes a little nauseated. Last night just… loopy.” His meds? He said that like he expects Lucas to know, like he remembers telling Lucas. Hope blinks its way into Lucas’s consciousness as Eliott looks up and meets his eyes. “Um, I actually should take my morning pill. Do you mind getting it from the bathroom? I feel like I’ll either pass out or puke if I try to move.”

Lucas smiles, a warm feeling draping over him like a soft blanket. “Sure.”

“The prescription bottle in the cabinet.”

Lucas had seen it the night prior when he went in search of the painkillers but he nods anyways. “Coming right up.”

When he comes back to the bed, Eliott has managed to prop himself up against the pillows, blankets pulled back up to his chin as he sips on his water.

“Here.” Lucas holds out the bottle but Eliott only looks at it pitifully. “Really?” Lucas sighs and really does try to at least pretend he’s not finding this act of Eliott’s adorable. “Fine. How many?”

“One, please.” Eliott smiles and puts out his hand to wait for the pill as Lucas uncaps the bottle and distributes it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Lucas smiles, putting the bottle down onto the side table and perching himself on the edge of the mattress at Eliott’s feet. “Are you always this pathetic when you’re hungover?"

“I don’t really drink much,” Eliott shrugs. Lucas had assumed as much before the drinking last evening had even commenced. “I don’t really like the way it makes me feel most of the time. At least when I drink to get drunk.”

“Then why’d you drink so much last night?” Lucas asks confused. Eliott had been pretty damn determined from what he recalls.

Lucas can see the covers shift with what he assumes is Eliott shrugging beneath them. “I don’t know.” His eyes flick to Lucas’s and then away.

“Ok, well…” Lucas stands and pats at imaginary wrinkles on his jeans. “I guess I should –”

“Oh no! Brian! I always check his water before bed.” Eliott suddenly exclaims, turning to put his water glass back down on the bedside table.

“What? Who?” Lucas asks quizzically. But Eliott is already leaping up from the bed, moaning miserably and pressing a hand to his forehead as the movement causes instant discomfort. He hurries around the bed anyways. He’s in nothing but his tiny clinging boxer briefs, chest and legs bare from the night before when Lucas had undressed him. And it’s just… it’s a little distracting is what it is, and Lucas loses the thread of their conversation until he sees the object of Eliott’s concern.

“Eliott what the fuck is that?!” Lucas asks leaping up from the bed and taking a few careful steps backwards.

“Brian,” Eliott answers smiling as he reaches into the terrarium and pulls out a _fucking snake_. It’s a snake. A SNAKE. Right there in Eliott’s hands. It’s not large but it’s there and it’s moving and Eliott is just picking it up and cooing at it like it’s a kitten.

“Why the fuck do you have a snake?!”

Eliott turns to smile at him, the snake – BRIAN – tucked into his chest. He pauses at the look on Lucas’s face and his grin stretches further. “Wait. Are you… scared?”

“It’s a snake, Eliott! What do you expect – that I’ll want to cuddle it like a fucking puppy?!” Lucas moves a step or two back towards the head of the bed as Eliott walks a little closer towards him.

“Well that’s quite rude. Brian is lovely. And he’s never done anything wrong in his life.” He coos down at the snake as its little head rises. It seems to be looking at Eliott straight in the face, tongue flicking out to test the air. “Certainly nothing to you.”

“Eliott,” Lucas raises a warning hand in front of him, “don’t even think about getting closer to me.”

“But why?” Eliott pouts _coming closer god fucking dammit._ Lucas is going to lose some serious tough-guy points if he’s forced to leap across the bed to put some distance between them. “He’s just a baby.” Eliott takes another step closer, now only separated from Lucas by the length of the bed and holding Brian in his hands he extends them towards Lucas. Nope. Nope. A million nopes. Lucas throws himself sideways and rolls across the bed, landing safely on the other side.

Eliott is staring at him, mouth dropped open. “Did you just – did you just ninja roll away from Brian?”

“I ninja rolled away from a _snake_ ,” Lucas replies pushing the hair that had flopped onto his forehead back with one hand. “And who names a snake _Brian_ anyways?!”

Eliott gasps offended, pulling Brian back towards his bare chest and petting at him softly. “Don’t listen to him, Brian. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. You are a handsome boy with a handsome name.”

“Oh my god,” Lucas fights the smile crawling up his face. “I don’t even know whether this is adorable or just really fucking disturbing.”

“What’s disturbing about a man and his snake?” They both freeze at Eliott’s words, staring at one another for a suspended moment before they crack at the same time, laughing loudly. “You know what I meant!” Eliott manages between bouts of laughter.

“Well if having that thing means openings for that kind of innuendo, I might be able to come around,” Lucas snickers.

“He’s not a thing. He’s Brian,” Eliott protests.

“Brian,” Lucas huffs with a slight eye roll.

Eliott smiles sweetly. “And you think you can? Get used to him?” He dips his head and looks towards Lucas more seriously. “Because it’s important. Anyone who wants to be a part of my life has to accept Brian. We’re a package deal.”

“Who says I want to be a part of your life?” Lucas challenges.

Eliott looks up quickly from where he’s allowing Brian to wrap himself around his hand, eyes big and far too expressive. “You don’t?” He blinks slowly.

Lucas sighs the sigh of the ‘thoroughly beaten at their own game’. “Fine. Bring that thing over here.”

Eliott’s face lights up. “Yeah?”

“C’mon,” Lucas beckons with a hand. “Before I change my mind.”

Eliott moves around the bed, repositioning Brian in his hands as he does so. “Alright, baby. Best behaviour now, you’ve got important people to impress.”

“What’s bad behaviour for him?” Lucas asks warily as Eliott comes to a stop directly in front of him.

“It’s just a turn of phrase,” Eliott shrugs. “He’s perfect. He doesn’t have bad behaviour.”

“Hmmm.” Lucas takes a step closer, bending his head to get a better look at Brian. “Somehow I doubt that.” He reaches out a little with one finger before stopping and looking up to Eliott for guidance. “Can I touch him?”

“Sure,” Eliott confirms with a nod. “Touch here.” He motions to the underside of Brian’s body, just beneath his head – his throat? Is it his throat or is a snake’s whole body basically a throat? Lucas hasn’t brushed up in his snake anatomy in… ever.

“He won’t bite me, will he?” Lucas moves a finger gently over Brian’s… chest. Lucas is going to call it a chest. It’s softer than he expected, almost silky.

“Only if you ask nicely.”

Lucas looks up at Eliott unmoved to find him grinning cheekily back. In the split second he’d taken to look at Eliott, Brian has apparently decided to explore Lucas as well. He’s extended himself out and when Lucas looks back down, Brian has moved his body to now be resting across Lucas’s turned hand, stretching over his thumb and towards his wrist.

“Eliott, Eliott!” Lucas doesn’t care that his voice has gone shrill in his panic. “What is he doing?!”

“Oh. Weird.”

“What’s weird? What’s weird?!!!” Lucas can’t take his eyes off Brian long enough to look back up and judge how concerned Eliott looks.

Lucas hears Eliott chuckle lightly but now Brian is moving even further, curling himself around Lucas’s thumb and moving his head onto the palm of Lucas’s hand, and Lucas doesn’t dare look away from him. “It’s fine, Lucas. Relax. He just doesn’t normally do this.”

“Why would that make me relax?!” Lucas does not understand why Eliott is so fucking calm. There is a snake. A real, live snake slithering across Lucas’s hand. _Slithering_. Lucas has just never been a fan of slithering. Things that slither don’t need to be in his life. It’s really that simple.

“Well because he likes you. Here.” Eliott’s hands are moving. They’re moving and with them Brian is moving and then Lucas’s hands are moving and there’s just a lot of moving hands, ok?! And then suddenly there’s Brian, cupped in Lucas’s hands, little snake head resting on Lucas’s thumb. Lucas holds his breath. “He’s not normally this relaxed with anyone except me.”

Lucas exhales slowly and watches as Brian turns himself a little, raising his head as though he’s just as startled to be in Lucas’s hands as Lucas is to have him there. “Why would he like me though?” Lucas whispers, shuffling Brian a little in his hands until he’s able to pet him gently with a couple fingers from his right hand. Brian responds by moving a little further up Lucas’s wrist until half his little body is resting on Lucas’s inner forearm.

Eliott reaches forward to pet Brian as well. “Maybe he recognizes his kin.”

Lucas chokes on a laugh of surprise, tearing his eyes away from Brian to look up at Eliott. “You asshole. You really just called me a snake?”

Eliott shrugs looking up through his lashes with a closed mouthed smile. “It’s a compliment. I like Brian. Besides, the resemblance is uncanny.”

Lucas laughs. “Alright I see I’m dealing with Sassy McSasspants this morning.” Eliott laughs, face flushing with colour. “Mind explaining how you think I resemble this _reptile_. You haven’t seen my scales yet so it can’t be that. And my tongue has many talents, but it’s not forked. Well done on that by the way little Brian,” he whispers down to where the placid little guy is happily laying against Lucas’s skin.

“Don’t talk dirty to my snake,” Eliott scolds with a grin. “He’s an innocent baby. He doesn’t know about such things.”

“You’d rather I talk dirty to you then?”

Eliott’s hand freezes where he’s petting Brian. _Fuck_. Lucas shouldn’t have said that. Not after last night. After the things Eliott said. Knowing Eliott remembers the things he’d said. Knowing he’s likely embarrassed. Lucas has gone and made it fucking weird; seen the careful line of innuendo they balance upon and gone bouncing right the fuck off it.

He opens his mouth to apologize but Eliott beats him to speaking. “Snakes are enigmatic and intuitive.” His eyes dart up to Lucas quickly before returning to Brain. “They read people quickly and rely on their instincts. But they’re hard to know. And they like to do everything alone.” He looks up at Lucas once more, this time holding eye contact and smiling a little. “But they like attention. They like to bask in it, at least if it’s attention from someone they like.” Lucas stares back, can’t look away. He knows his mouth is hanging open, but he can’t seem to rein his reaction back in, can’t seem to cover it, the mask so readily available in most instances is suddenly nowhere to be found. “When they’re threatened they lash-out, but they rarely actually bite.” There’s an extended pause as they stare at one another before Eliott speaks again. “Plus,” Eliott lets his smile grow, “they have sexy, scaly bodies.” Lucas exhales with a laugh, thankful for the humour in allowing him a reprieve from the intensity of the previous moment. “And also –”

“Here. Take him back?” Lucas pushes his hands and Brian back until Eliott scoops the snake back into his own hands.

“You don’t want to hold him anymore?”

“Just think he’s probably tired of me. Better he’s with who he knows, right?” Lucas turns away from Eliott and busies himself by perusing the contents of the shelves lining Eliott’s bedroom wall. Books clutter the space, philosophy, poetry… Lucas’s fingers linger on a Virginia Woolf novel before moving on. He stops as he reaches what looks to be a … “You have a vinyl record player?” He looks over to where Eliott is now putting Brian gently back into his terrarium. Eliott looks up, briefly nodding before returning his attention to his task, adjusting the heat lamp glowing down on Brian.

Lucas flicks through the vinyl selection before noticing a record already sits on the player. He spins it until he can read the title clearly. _Oh he has got to be kidding_.

“You have dubstep on vinyl.” He doesn’t say it as a question because it’s not. A judgement? Oh absolutely. A question? Not in the least. It’s there, as clear as the need to tease Eliott about this for the rest of their very long lives.

Eliott seems to realize this and moves towards him quickly. But his movements are easy to anticipate and Lucas turns towards him, blocking his route to the record player.

“What?” Lucas grins. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly shy about your musical preferences? It takes real commitment to buy _dupstep_ on _vinyl,_ Princeling.” Lucas can see the effort it’s taking Eliott not to attempt to push his way by with force. “Tell me, do you listen with glass of scotch in one hand, cigar in the other?”

Lucas laughs as Eliott gives in and tries pushing past him to get to the player. It doesn’t take much effort to hold him back. He’s all long limbs and uncoordinated movements, standing in his tiny briefs as he tries to get Lucas to move out of the way. “Lucas,” it’s an absolute whine, “let me by. I need to put it away.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Lucas laughs turning to face the record player and shoving Eliott off when he attempts to reach over Lucas’s shoulder, “we’re playing this beauty.”

Eliott huffs frustrated but steps back from Lucas, allowing him to press play and align the tonearm with the outer rim of the record. The record starts spinning and as the needle connects sound blares from the speakers… and what a sound. Lucas turns back to Eliott laughing.

“I have a headache,” Eliott tries with a pout. “It’s not good hangover music.”

“Oh?” Lucas grins. “So exactly what kind of mood is this music best suited to? Dropping acid and partaking in an orgy perhaps? Or are these meditation tunes for you?”

“Shut up!” Eliott laughs. “It’s good. It has a good beat. It’s good for dancing.”

“Dancing?” Well Lucas got a little preview last night of what that might mean when it comes to Eliott but that had been alcohol induced. A sober – make that _hungover_ – Eliott dancing to _this_ music? That Lucas needs to see. “Well let’s see then.”

Obvious horror at the suggestion blanches Eliott’s cheeks. “What?”

Lucas raises an eyebrow smirking. “Let’s see what you got.”

“I can’t just – just dance for you. Just like that.”

“Why not?” Lucas starts hopping slightly, back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“What are you doing?” Eliott’s eyes track his movements and he looks torn between delight and disbelief.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Lucas grins and starts bopping his head to the (absolutely terrible – he doesn’t care what Eliott says) frenetic beat. He bounces a little more obviously, throwing his shoulders into it now in a spastic sort of rhythm. Hey, if it’s going to take him making an idiot out of himself to get Eliott to do the same, he’s willing to take that bullet. “Dancing, Eliott! To this noise you call music.”

“Noise I call music?” Eliott laughs, eyes shining as he tilts his head to the side and watches Lucas. “You really are an eighty-year-old.”

“Oh ya? Could an eighty-year-old, do this?” He spins on one foot. Losing his balance a little, he throws his raised leg out in a little kick and decides that will do nicely as a new dance move. The nice thing about this music is that it lends itself to dancing like a moron. Like someone who’s only ever read about dancing, never tried it out themselves. 

Eliott is holding his stomach as he laughs now, but he’s starting to move too. Just a little, swaying and so obviously repressing a desire to let himself go. “Old man in a hot, younger body could maybe.” Lucas does not preen at that descriptor. Definitely not. “But careful old man. You could still break a hip.”

“Alright you sassy excuse for a dubstep fan!” Lucas leaps forward and grabs Eliott’s hands, forcing his arms into something like a wiggle… or flail... whatever it is, it makes Eliott laugh.

“That’s not how you do it,” Eliott protests but he doesn’t let go of Lucas’s hands, instead tightening his own and taking over their movements. His own flailing, now pulling Lucas along for the ride, is in no way better than Lucas’s had been.

“Oh yes,” Lucas laughs as he jumps along, “I can see how this does a way better job of capturing the brrrrzzzzzzeeeeee.” Lucas proceeds to spend the next minute doing his level best to replicate the sounds of the song playing, as hysterical laughter makes both their movements slow until they’ve let go of one another and are bent over laughing.

“Ugghhh.” Eliott’s hand goes to his head. “God now my head really hurts.”  
  
“That’s what you get!” Lucas straightens, wagging a finger at him. “Anyone who starts a night off with vodka and _Mary_ deserves to listen to EDM at full blast the next day. As a matter of fact,” he turns back to the record player, “let’s just really pump things up, hey?”

“What are you…?” Eliott’s arms descend around him where Lucas has his hand on the volume dial, the heat of his chest presses up against Lucas’s back. “No, Lucas. No.” Eliott manages to turn the volume back down, giggling uncontrollably, until Lucas bats his hand away and dials it right back up.

They’re both laughing now, and the percussive electronic rhythms of the track vibrate through the room. Clearly realizing he stands no chance against the bulky way Lucas is holding himself – he might be a little smaller in stature to Eliott but what he lacks in height he makes up for in muscle and sheer force of stubborn will – Eliott leaps onto Lucas’s back, legs coming up around Lucas’s waist as he reaches around like some sort of horrifically overgrown long-legged spider.

Lucas snorts with laughter. Wobbling under Eliott’s weight, one hand latches to the meat of Eliott’s thigh to hold him steady while he throws the other down on top of the dial. Eliott’s arm wrapped around Lucas’s chest keeps him from toppling further forward and he reaches with the other to try and pry Lucas’s fingers off the volume.

“Let me turn it down you floppy-haired heathen!”

Lucas gasps dramatically. “Language, Eliott! Where are you learning such foul terms?!”

“Ugh!” Eliott huffs, fingers weaseling between Lucas’s and successfully turning the volume down. “Fine! Bastard!”

“My virgin ears!” Lucas cries faux-aghast.

“You’re a dick!”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know what I do with my mouth…”

“Hey! I was talking about innocent kisses there, Princeling. Now who’s the heathen?!”

“Still you.”

The bedroom door slams behind them. They both freeze, Eliott half hanging off Lucas’s back, Lucas hunched over the record player. He slowly turns his body, Eliott and all, to see Manon standing at the door, arms crossed, amusement clear in her eyes and the shape of her smile.  
  
“Sorry.” She smiles, laughter bubbling in her tone. “I didn’t think you’d be able to hear me over the… uh, music.”

“You see!” Lucas cries, righting himself and letting Eliott slide from his back. “You hear that pause in her voice, sasspup? That’s because it’s noise, not music!”

“Well that just makes you sound like you’re eighty years old,” Manon snorts.

Eliott turns to grin at her before turning back to Lucas, his expression clearly reading ‘I told you so.’

“How? What?” Lucas’s eyes bounce between the two of them. “How the fuck…”

“It’s a twin thing,” Eliott shrugs and Lucas sees Manon nod despite having no context for Lucas’s current dumbfounded expression. Eliott moves to turn the record off while Manon come further into the room and sits down on the chair that had been Lucas’s bed for the night.

She looks tired but happy and doesn’t seem like she’s suffering the same hangover her brother is battling.

“You had a good night?” Lucas asks.

Manon nods smiling. “It was fun.” She looks towards where Eliott still has his back turned to them as he carefully puts away the vinyl. “Obviously not as much fun as your night.”

Oh god she thinks they hooked up. Why wouldn’t she? She’s just found Lucas in Eliott’s bedroom the night after they’d all been out partying and drinking. Lucas can feel blood rushing to his head. He should play it cool, make a joke. Innuendo is his middle name after all. Instead what comes out is, “We didn’t! I didn’t! He just – he was drunk. Eliott. And I – I mean, I didn’t – because he was drunk. I mean not _just_ because he was drunk. I wouldn’t. But I fell asleep and then I woke up and then – then there was Brian.” Fuck when did his voice become that high-pitched and shrill?!

Eliott’s hands land on his shoulders and he pushes Lucas firmly to sit down on the bed. “God. Sit down, you’re going to give yourself a coronary.” He laughs lightly and sits down next to Lucas. He’s put on a pair of sweatpants thankfully, though he’s left his chest bare. “Manon doesn’t think we slept together.”

Fuck. No of course she wouldn’t. The thought is probably completely ridiculous to her. That Lucas would – with Eliott. The Prince. And now he’s made an ass out of himself by protesting so avidly. Manon thank god doesn’t look put off. “You met Brian, hunh?” She asks.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Lucas does his level-best to regroup. “Met the little guy. I was calm, cool and collected about the whole thing.” Eliott snorts from beside him. “And he was a big fan of mine of course. A snake with taste.”

Manon laughs. “He liked you then? Well that’s unusual.” She looks at Eliott. “Idriss is still scared of him from that time Brian bit him.”

Lucas gasps so dramatically he chokes on it, coughing before he’s able to regain speech. “Bit him?!” He rounds on Eliott. “You said he’d never done anything wrong in his life. No bad behaviour! You lied? To me?!”

“It was barely even a bite!” Eliott defends and he’s all big eyes, and innocent expression and Lucas isn’t buying it for a second. “Idriss just overreacted.”

Lucas turns to Manon. “And you put up with this madness?”

She shrugs, relaxed and unconcerned. “Eliott wanted a snake since we were kids. I couldn’t deny him the joy.”

“Ugh,” Lucas dismisses with exaggerated disgust. “You are way too nice.” He looks back at Eliott. “I thought you said Brian was a baby?

“He is.” Eliott nods eagerly as though he thinks Lucas showing interest is a positive sign of future Brian-Lucas bonding. “I only got him a couple months ago.”

“Why’d you wait so long?”

Eliott’s face collapses a bit at the question and it’s Manon who jumps in to answer.

“Our mother wasn’t anymore keen on a snake being in her vicinity than you.” Lucas is not so sure he’s liking a comparison with their mother. “And it might sound ridiculous, considering our age but…” She trails off as her eyes meet her brothers.

Eliott continues, “She wields a lot more influence on our lives and choices than either of us would like.”

“Does she not know then?” Lucas asks wondering exactly how removed their mother would have to be from their lives not to know Eliott has a real live reptile living in his room.

“No. She knows.” Eliott doesn’t expand any more than that. Instead he stands and moves back to Brian’s terrarium, staring down at the snake curled happily under the heat lamp.

“Brian was her way of trying to appease, Eliott,” Manon explains. “Trying to give him something he wanted so –”

“So I’d give her what she wanted,” Eliott finishes.

“What she wanted being…” Lucas turns his head between the two of them as he’s no longer sure who’s most likely to speak.

“To control me.” Eliott doesn’t look up, keeping his eyes firmly on Brian. “To control my future. To ensure I’ll follow her carefully orchestrated script.”

“Eliott,” Manon interrupts sounding a little anxious now, “maybe this isn’t something we should be talking about.” _With Lucas here_. The words go unspoken but Lucas hears them anyways. He’s not offended. It’s totally understandable that Manon would be concerned about how open they’re being with someone they barely know.

“No, it’s ok.” Eliott finally looks up and back at them. He slowly makes his way back over but doesn’t sit. Instead he stands at the end of the bed and fiddles with a ring on his finger. “I wanted to explain to Lucas anyways. About everything. And about – what you saw. About Lucille.”

“You really don’t have to,” Lucas says immediately, overly conscious now of Manon’s discomfort. “You don’t owe me any explanations and I completely understand that I’m like a stranger here.”

“You’re not a stranger!” Eliott face transforms with outrage. “Why would you say that? We don’t think that.”

“We don’t,” comes Manon’s soft voice. He looks away from Eliott to turn to her. “I didn’t mean to imply you’re not welcome, or not trustworthy. I’m just very aware of how messed up our situations are. It’s a lot to put on other people.” She looks away, biting her lip as she stares past Lucas and he can see her mind has gone somewhere else. To someone else.

“I want you to know,” Eliott adds with sincerity. “The other day, what you saw, with me and Lucille, I think it looked different than it was.”

“Eliott, honestly, you don’t have to clarify. I know about you and Lucille. I’m not out of the loop or whatever.” It feels extraordinarily strange to be having this conversation at all, never mind with Manon present.

“What do you mean? What do you know about me and Lucille?” Eliott looks genuinely confused as he asks and Lucas has to wonder how much – or little – Eliott knows about the way gossip travels in the Palace. That he’s regularly the focus of it.

Lucas speaks quickly and makes his tone matter of fact, having no particular desire to make this conversation any more awkward than it’s quickly becoming. “That you’re meant to marry her. That the Queen is insisting on it. That you are refusing – or trying to. Because you’re in love with someone else.” Lucas clears his throat. Well… he’s already thrown it all out there… “With a man.”

Eliott is gaping at him, clearly shocked. He moves his mouth a couple of times as though to speak but no words come out.

“How do you know all this?” Manon asks instead. “I mean, I know everyone talks but you’ve only just started working here. Honestly, I’m a little surprised. You don’t seem like the gossipy type.”

Lucas expels a laugh of little humour. “Yeah, you and me both, Princess. Don’t get me wrong, I like being in the know. But… can’t say I predicted finding out all that in my first week.”

“But,” comes Eliott’s soft voice, “I don’t understand. Who told you?”

“Uh.” Lucas wonders if Eliott will be pissed to learn exactly how Lucas first found out. Then again, it was Eliott yelling at his mother in the middle of the Palace. “I overheard you and the Queen arguing actually. I hadn’t meant to. But it was sort of right in the open and I stumbled on you.”

Manon makes a sound of amusement. “Well that’s been effective then.”

“Sorry?” Lucas looks to her in confusion.

“Eliott’s sort of been banking on news – or gossip – travelling fast in this place.”

“You want people to know?”

“It’s… complicated,” He sighs. “Can I start over? I want to explain properly.”

Lucas nods. “If you want.” He has to admit he’s far more curious now than he’d like to be.

“The thing is,” Eliott begins, his hands move distractedly in front of him, “it’s true I don’t want to marry Lucille. But she doesn’t want to marry me either.” _She doesn’t?_ From her level of comfort with Eliott and the obvious affection Lucas witnesses between them, he has to say he’s a little surprised. “Lucille and I love one another but… not like that.”

“I thought you dated.” Lucas speaks without conscious thought.

“You really do have all the gossip then,” Manon says with a slight laugh. “This place is worse than high school.”

“What – is it not true?” Lucas looks back to Eliott. He _knows_ it’s true. Lucas knows it’s not just Palace gossip. He knows the very truth of Eliott and Lucille’s early relationship like a flare-up from a long-forgotten injury. Like a knee that starts to ache when it’s going to rain.

“No, it’s true,” Eliott answers with a slight smile. “We were together as kids. Or well… I guess kids and teens. It’s just that looking back on it…”

“You were babies,” Manon supplies.

“Yeah,” Eliott smiles at her before looking back at Lucas. “Lucille and I starting ‘dating’,” he motions with fingers to emphasize the quotation marks around the word, “when we were thirteen. We broke up when I was fifteen – when everything happened with – um,” he looks briefly to Manon and she smiles softly at him in support, “when I had a manic episode and we realized I was unwell.”

“She broke up with you when you had a manic episode?” Lucas can feel rage strum through his body, and he does his best to keep his voice level. He’s not sure he succeeds as Eliott’s eyebrows pull together in worry.

“No, no,” Eliott mollifies. “We broke up after. Like – when things had settled down. And it was mutual.” At Lucas’s disbelieving eyebrow raise, Eliott adds, “No _really_. Everything that happened just made us both realize we didn’t want to be together like that. We wanted to stay friends and just leave the rest.”

“And you managed?” It feels like an understatement. That much at least seems clear to Lucas. Lucille and Eliott are obviously close. A flash of them lying together on the bed, intimate and loving, flashes through Lucas’s mind.

“Eventually,” Eliott nods. “But none of that mattered to our families. I think they’d had our marriage planned, at least in their minds, since we were children.”

“Why?” Lucas can’t help but ask. Arranged marriages in this respect just seem so entirely unnecessary. It’s not like they’re talking about a merging of kingdoms five hundred years ago. What the hell is the point in forcing this sort of arrangement?

Eliott pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “Our families have had dealings with one another for –”

“Generations,” Manon breaks in. “And a coming together of Eliott and Lucille means a coming together of business interests as well. They own a lot of property in Paris and wield a lot of influence.”

“Jesus that sounds like a fucking merger deal or some shit,” Lucas scoffs. It spikes irritation in his blood – that parents should use their children as though they were pawns being moved on a chess board, no value apart from how they might be used to further one’s own gain. It’s fucking _bullshit_.

“It’s not all that unusual,” Manon adds as Eliott stares down at his hands. “Romance – love – it’s never been at the foundations of marriage in our world.”

“Jesus this isn’t the fucking middle ages. Marrying for love isn’t going to end in kingdoms torn apart, lives ruined… you talk like there have never been kings or queens or whatever-the-hell people in these positions marrying for love.”

“Of course, there are,” Manon allows with a patient smile. “But even then, they’re advantageous matches. They’re appropriate. When someone such as a prince,” she nods her head at Eliott, “marries outside of…” She trails off and Lucas knows it has less to do with her not having the words than not wanting to voice them. He does so for her.

“Outside of your class bracket.” It makes him sick to say it. And the reminder of why he’s always despised this institution feels like a slap in the face. Like a very necessary reminder after having gotten too comfortable in his own cushy situation in the Palace.

Manon purses her lips but doesn’t disagree, merely continuing, “When it happens it’s a scandal. When you add other factors into it, things that might make that Prince’s choice an even less ideal candidate, there’s even more vested interest in preventing what’s seen as an entirely unnecessary situation.” She doesn’t clarify what she means, what might make a ‘candidate’ even less ideal but the implication is clear nonetheless. What could be worse than a Prince who wanted to marry someone of a different social station? A Prince who was not only pansexual, but in love with a man.

If Lucas can feel frustration bursting at his every seam, he can’t imagine how Eliott must feel. He looks towards Eliott to see that he’s remained standing. He’s looking at Lucas, obviously reading Lucas’s every reaction.

Lucas speaks, not bothering to hide his frustration on Eliott’s behalf. “So, Lucille’s the ideal candidate. The perfect choice. But you don’t want to marry her and she doesn’t want to marry you. No one can force you.”

“No,” Eliott agrees. “No one can force us. But dealing with the consequences of that refusal – for me – I could handle it. I’m…” He pauses searching for the word, “protected, relatively, by my position. And even if I weren’t… even if I was threatened by a loss of title,” Manon makes a small sound of protest but Eliott continues, “I’m not sure I’d mind. More and more lately, I don’t think I’d mind. But Lucille,” Eliott turns to the side and begins pacing, his hands moving in front of him expressively as he speaks, “Lucille is much less so. She’s an only child. She’ll inherit her family’s fortune.”

“Wouldn’t that protect her if anything?” Lucas can’t help but interrupt to ask. “I mean if she’s the only child what choice do they have but to accept her choices?”

“You’d think,” Manon sighs.

Eliott shares a resigned smile with his sister before continuing. “The thing is, Lucille’s – um, the person she’s involved with is not someone her parents would approve of either. Especially when the alternative is well,” he flaps a hand uncomfortably in front of himself, glancing quickly at Lucas and away, “me.”

Lucas huffs in bitter amusement. “Yeah, I suppose when the Crown Prince is an option, any other choice would pale in comparison.” God every single parent in this situation sound like fucking assholes, utterly selfish pricks. Their children’s happiness likely never having been a consideration in any of their decisions or actions. While Lucas can relate, he also knows the opposite. He has unconditional love in his life and with a pang he thinks of his mother and an overwhelming need to go visit her nearly smothers him.

“They’d see it as a betrayal.” Eliott’s voice pulls Lucas back from his own musings. “An effort to ruin them. And despite them being… not my favourite people… Lucille loves her parents. She doesn’t want to lose them.”

“Is she so sure she would?” Lucas doesn’t doubt the parents in this situation are clearly _the worst_ , but Lucille is not the heir to a throne. Surely her choice of partner is of less impact than Eliott’s for instance.

“Yes.” Eliott answer definitively, without elaborating but with enough assurance Lucas doesn’t think to question him.  
  
Eliott’s likely plan crystallizes in Lucas’s mind with perfect clarity. “So you’re focusing the attention on yourself. On the potential scandal caused by you wanting to be a man. You’re hoping the rumours spread as it’ll force the Queen to acknowledge the situation – a way of coming out without needing her consent. If the focus is on you it eases the pressures on Lucille.” Jesus the extent to which Eliott is going to protect Lucille… Lucas hopes she’s aware of exactly what a loyal friend she has on her side. “And if you’re not available – if you’re publicly involved with a man – you take yourself out of the equation from her point of view, and more importantly her parents. You buy her time.”

Eliott is looking back, eyes wide and amazed. He’s stopped pacing and he stares at Lucas. He nods. “Yes. Exactly.”

“It’s a delicate balance,” Manon speaks. “Our mother isn’t used to a lack of control. And whether she truly doesn’t understand it or just won’t accept it, she denies the power of the spreading gossip. She really believes she can contain everything within our walls. And without –”

“The reality of it being shoved in her face,” Eliott continues seamlessly and Lucas wonders if he’ll ever get used to this back-and-forth thing they do when they speak. _Twins_. “She can make my life, and Lucille’s by extension, a living hell. I’m just lucky she hasn’t tried to remove Idriss as my guard.”

“Idriss knows about all this?” Lucas imagined as much but asks anyways.

Eliott nods. “And he gives me as much freedom as he can.” He looks at Manon. “Both of us.”

“Well your every action is definitely reported on. The plate smashing thing sounded pretty extreme if I’m honest though,” Lucas admits.

“Plate smashing?” Eliott looks confused.

“Yeah. Staff all know the last time you and your mom had dinner it ended with you smashing a plate in a fit of rage or some shit.” In all honestly, it still doesn’t sound at all believable to Lucas. 

Eliott laughs a little, exchanging a quick look with Manon. “Um, that’s not what happened.” At Lucas’s curious look he explains, “We were fighting it’s true. I got up to leave the table and sometimes I’m not the most coordinated and…” He shrugs.

“Wait,” Lucas snorts, “you smashed the plate by accident because you’re a gigantic klutz –”

“I’m not a gigantic kl–” Eliott attempts to interrupt but Lucas won’t have it.

“A _gigantic_ klutz and this resulted in you having some badass reputation in the Palace for having a temper?” Lucas asks incredulous. How anyone could look at Eliott and realistically see him as someone who would intentionally smash a plate, Lucas doesn’t know. He probably stayed to help clean up the mess.

“We can’t always control how the news we’re spreading – or not spreading – gets interpreted,” Manon admits.

“So, the plan is to… what? How do you shove the truth of it in your mom’s face without the Prince being here and actually publicly being with him?” Lucas can understand Eliott’s desperation to protect Lucille, to build a future with the man he loves, to maintain whatever freedom he can, but the gravity of going up against hundreds of years of _tradition –_ Lucas spits the word even in the privacy of his own head – and doing all this in direct opposition to the Queen’s wishes, is a daunting idea to say the least.

“What?” Eliott brows pull together in confusion. “Prince?”

 _Oh fuck_. Lucas hadn’t admitted to knowing it was the Italian Prince, had he? Well… it’s out there now…

“Uh, yeah.” A hand goes to his hair and Lucas ruffles it nervously. “Sorry I guess I forgot to mention that was sort of part of the gossip that’s spread.” Surely that’s not a bad thing, though? Not if Eliott wants to force the situation. “Everyone knows about the man you’re – uh –” It shouldn’t be difficult to say. But the words – _in love with_ – they chafe, “well, that it’s the Italian Prince. Niccolò.”

Eliott looks away from Lucas and immediately to Manon. They stare at one another for an extended period. Lucas can’t help but wonder what it’s like to have someone like that, someone you know and love so well you can carry on whole conversations with your eyes alone. He has people in his life he loves beyond all measure, people he would die for, but he doesn’t have that. Not with anyone. No one knows him like that. Not Yann. Not even Alexia.

“There’s a visit planned,” Manon explains. “In about a months time, he’ll be here.”

Lucas nods. There are a million follow-up questions he could ask – he _should_ ask – to better understand what their plan might be. He finds himself uninterested in doing so.

“I’m not with him.” Eliott suddenly speaks and when Lucas looks to him, Eliott is staring directly back. He flushes slightly when Lucas meets his eyes but continues speaking firmly. “It’s just better if my mom thinks it’s serious. But I’ve never been with him. I like him and we get along really well but –”

Lucas cuts him off, no desire to hear anything else and with a desperate need to lighten the intensity of the moment. “So, you’re planning to seduce him then, Princeling? Amaze him with that sass of yours ‘til he drops his pants.”

Eliott’s cheeks turn an even deeper red and he bites his lip around a smile, but he doesn’t laugh, dropping his eyes to the ground instead.

“Anyways,” Manon pulls Lucas’s attention back to her, “like we said, it’s a mess. We don’t really know what we’re doing from day-to-day so…”

“Well if there’s one thing you can rely on, it’s that the Palace gossip channels will do that for you. And by gossip channels, I mean Daphne.”

Manon laughs and Lucas grins in response, looking back to see if Eliott is doing the same. Instead he finds Eliott’s eyes are indeed on him, but he doesn’t look like he’s even heard Lucas’s last comment. He’s staring at him intently but as though his mind is a million years away.

“Y’alright there, sasspup?

Eliott blinks rapidly before his eyes focus on the present once more and he smiles a little awkward with it. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

“Well don’t think too hard. Men don’t like that, you know?” Lucas grins.

Eliott grins amused. “Oh no?”

“Nope,” Lucas pops the ‘p’. “They like ‘em dumb. So, none of those big words or that wit of yours, got it? Stick to laughing at everything he says. Even when it’s deeply depressing. Then just bat those pretty eyelashes.”

“Pretty eyelashes? You sure you’re not looking in a mirror? Yours would make women weep in envy.” Eliott’s all sassy flirtation as he says it.

“And I bat them to full effect, so I clearly know what I’m about. Princes don’t want intelligence and sass, they want eyelashes.” Lucas’s smile spreads as Eliott looks more and more exasperated.

“Somehow I think your expert advice on how to seduce the Prince will be thoroughly lacking,” Eliott decides.

“See that’s where you’re wrong.” Lucas smirks. “I am an expert seducer. Got men falling left and right for a chance to be with me, don’t you know?”

“Is that right?” Eliott is so obviously trying to smother a charmed smile. And Lucas feels giddy at the sight. Like he’s just done a couple shots and the sugar and liquor are rushing through his bloodstream.

“It is indeed. Matter of fact, I’ll help you.” He leans back on his hands on the bed, cocksure and entertained. “Offer you my expert advice and all, and at no charge. You should consider yourself lucky. You can’t imagine the men I’ve had beg to _pay_ me for my guidance.”

“Oh?” Eliott bites his lip as he takes in Lucas’s position, eyes dragging across him. “What men are those?”

“Basile.”

A laugh bursts from Eliott. “Well I’m convinced then.”

“You’ll see, Princeling.” Lucas smiles at the sight of Eliott flushed and laughing. “We’ll have that Italian Prince eating out of the palm of your hand. Wait no – that makes him sound like a horse.” Lucas scrunches his nose at the visual. 

“Well he’s definitely not that. He’s a beautiful man.” Manon’s voice startles him. He rolls his eyes at her pronouncement.

“He’s alright,” Lucas replies reluctantly.

“You don’t think he’s beautiful?” Eliott asks looking a little cocky himself now and Lucas isn’t sure how he feels about that.

He pushes himself up into a proper seated position, rubbing the palm of his hands against his knees. “I just said he’s alright. If you’re into that kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing? Beauty?” Eliott is so obviously delighting in Lucas’s discomfort at his appreciation of the Italian Prince. God he never should have let on how much he enjoys Eliott being a sassy little fucker.

“Alright, alright. Enough sass.” Lucas flaps a hand towards him as though holding a white flag in surrender. “I’m too tired after taking care of your cute, drunken ass last night to keep up any longer. I need to get home, shower and sleep.”

“You thought I was cute?” And now Eliott looks pleased as well as smug. A terrible, enchanting combination. _Enchanting_? Fuck Lucas has been spending too much time in this place. He’s starting to think in fairy-tale terms.

“What?” Lucas feels distinctly in over his head all of the sudden. Maybe he’s a little hungover as well.

“You called me cute. You think I’m cute when I’m drunk?” Eliott bites his lower lip again. Fuck. Does he always have to do that?!

“Being drunk had nothing to do with it,” Lucas mumbles beneath his breath before adding more loudly, “You were a pain in my ass that’s what you were.” It’s not a lie and the two are not mutually exclusive. Eliott absolutely achieved being both cute and a pain in the ass.

“You were drunk?” Manon asks and while it’s not an obviously displeased tone it isn’t one of good humour either.

“Only a little.” Eliott looks towards her, instantly repentant.

Lucas snorts. “Ok I just got you in trouble with your sister, so my work here is done. I’m gonna go.” He rises from the bed and with a quick wink to Manon he moves to pass Eliott.

“How are you getting home?” Eliott asks turning towards him as Lucas makes his way to the bedroom door.

Lucas had honestly been wondering that himself. No option is particularly convenient. “Just going to walk off the grounds and I’ll catch a bus,” he shrugs as though that won’t be the entirely annoying ordeal it is sure to be. From this area to Yann’s it’ll take at least one bus transfer. “I’m guessing Yann is in no condition to come get me.”

“Just take one of the cars,” Eliott suggests.

“What?” Surely Lucas didn’t hear that correctly. Or maybe Eliott was joking. Was he joking? He looks serious.

“One of the cars? In the garage?” Eliott replies as though Lucas had somehow completely forgotten about the existence of the very cars he was hired to manage. “One of them must be running, right?"

He’s serious. He’s serious?!

“Are you fucking serious?!” Lucas stares at him in disbelief.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?” Eliott looks genuinely confused by the degree of Lucas’s shock.

“Um, because they’re priceless works of art?” Lucas replies. Eliott really is a fucking Prince isn’t he? Just offering up priceless cars like an extra shirt he hasn’t worn in a while.

“They’re hardly that,” Eliott dismisses. “The Delacroix in the library is a priceless work of art. They’re just cars.”

Lucas gasps in offense. Why this pretentious little... “Alright I’m leaving before I have to kick your ass for that remark. Rest assured however, Princeling, we’ll be adding car history to your rock music appreciation classes.” He points a threatening finger towards Eliott’s all-too-amused face.

“If I say yes will you take one?” He grins.

“Stop saying ‘take’. It’s making me fantasize about driving off into the sunset with the Cady,” Lucas replies dreamily.

“That’s the cool one with the wings,” Eliott says excitedly looking proud to know of which car Lucas speaks. _Wings_. Cute.

“Gold star,” Lucas smiles, charmed despite himself. “Perfect for that classic shot – just driving off into the horizon.” 

“Well you’re not doing that without me,” Eliott protests with a smile.

“Who says I want to drive off into the sunset with you sassing me?” Lucas snorts.

“I do,” Eliott replies looking far too self-assured for Lucas’s liking.

“Keep dreaming.”

“Ok.”

“And I’m _borrowing_ it.” That particular detail seems very important.

Eliott’s face splits in a grin. “Ok. Good.”

“Good.”

“We’ll see you Monday then?” Manon asks and when Lucas’s eyes swing to her she’s looking supremely amused. In all honestly Lucas had sort of forgotten she was sitting there. Again. It’s not his fault. Conversation with Eliott tends to be all-consuming, and Manon is just… quiet… and sneaky. Always silently observing.

He clears his throat looking away from her and back to Eliott. “Uh, sure. I mean, yes. Of course. See you Monday.”

Eliott is still smiling like pure sunshine as Lucas turns to leave. As he shuts the door softly behind him, he can hear Manon. “You’re a mess,” she says before the rest of her words are muffled by the closed door. Lucas smiles. She’s not wrong there. Eliott is just… ridiculous. He’s a ridiculous, cute, sassy mess. It’s a moment before Lucas realizes he’s standing smiling at a closed door, his hand pressed to it like a fucking moron and he jerks himself away from the wood. A soft noise to his right startles him and he turns towards it.

Chloe. Shutting the door to the room adjacent to Eliott’s. She’s not in uniform so she’s not working. It’s Saturday after all, she wouldn’t be working. What the fuck is she doing here too? Lucas had assumed that was Manon’s room.

“Chloe?” Lucas whispers and she jumps, turning to look at him.

They do nothing but stare at one another until Chloe’s eyes flick to the door next to Lucas and her mouths pulls up at one side into a slanted smile.

Lucas’s head turns towards the door before his brain catches up to her likely train of thought. He raises his hands as she starts walking towards him. “Oh no, no, no. Not what you’re thinking.”

“What am I thinking?” She grins and stops in front of him.

He grabs her elbow and starts pulling her down the hall beside him. “He was drunk. I just brought him home to sleep it off.”

“And stayed?” She asks smirking.

“Fell asleep _by accident_ on a chair next to the bed. Get your mind out of the gutter, Jeanson.”

“You have the dirtiest mind out of anyone I’ve ever met, _Lallemant_ , so don’t give me any attitude. Besides, how am I to know what you got into last night? I wouldn’t put it past you to take advantage of a God-given opportunity like that.”

Lucas bristles. “I would _never_ take advantage of someone like that. Eliott was drunk. He didn’t know what he was – I would never do that.”

“Shit.” Chloe stops where they’re hustling down the main staircase, grabbing Lucas’s arm to pull him to a stop as well. “I’m sorry. I was just joking. I know you wouldn’t. I really didn’t mean to imply you would ever take advantage of someone when they were drunk.”

Lucas nods, offering her a small smile in understanding as they both turn and continue down the stairs. He shouldn’t have snapped at her like that. He knew she didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that the idea of someone taking advantage of Eliott like that … the idea that someone _could_ have with how vulnerable and… willing, Eliott had been… the knowledge prickles on Lucas’s skin like a rash.

“What were you doing up there anyways?” Lucas asks suddenly remembering he’d been thoroughly diverted from his own confusion at Chloe’s presence.

Chloe shrugs, not looking at him but not seeming particularly nervous. “I guess I was a little wasted myself last night. Ended up in that room instead of my own. It’s empty so...”

“That seems like a risky venture. I thought that was Manon’s room? And wait – your room?” The questions make Lucas’s head spin. He really does need to get some more sleep.

“Manon’s room is on the other side of the hall, dummy,” Chloe laughs lightly at what is likely a dumbfounded expression on Lucas’s face. “And yes, _my_ room. I live in the Palace. In the staff quarters. The wing on the opposite side of the garage, at the back of the Palace.”

“There are staff rooms?” How did Lucas not know this?

Chloe laughs. “How is it you know some of the juiciest gossip about the Palace after just a week of working here and you don’t know that?” Lucas kind of wonders that himself. He’s just… been distracted by other things he supposes. “A few of us live here. I couldn’t afford anything else and it’s a lot more convenient. I’ll want to move out and get my own place eventually but… I don’t know.” She looks wistful for a moment. “There are a lot of reasons to stay. I like it. For now, anyways.”

“Who else lives on the grounds?” Lucas supposes it’s not an odd to have live-in staff. He’s just a little thrown by being so entirely unobservant about the matter.

“Idriss. He kind of doesn’t have a choice considering the nature of his job,” Chloe begins and Lucas nods along. That does make sense. Idriss had mentioned being the only 24/7 member of security. Lucas just hadn’t realized he meant quite literally. “A couple of the kitchen staff. Anna as well – she works with Daphne and me but on the opposite shift.”

“Hunh.” He wants to ask if there’s another room available. It would make sense for him. If it was cheap enough, he might just be able to afford it along with his mother’s care. And he could get out of Yann’s space. Something keeps his mouth shut. Whether it’s his unease with asking for help or the idea of actually having to live in the Palace and owe even more of his stability in life to an institution he hates… he can’t quite be sure. But he’s not ready to ask.

As they round the corner leading towards the back hall of the Palace, a voice suddenly echoes through the space and having recognized it, Lucas grabs Chloe, pushing her up against the wall and out of line of sight, plastering himself up against her to achieve the same.

Chloe raises her eyebrows at the suggestive position Lucas has put them both in – with his body pressed up against her – and they both snicker quietly. If he was bent on seducing the lovely Chloe that would have been a hell of an effective move. He wants to say as much, knowing it will make her laugh, but the sound of the voice keeps him quiet and they both hold their breath as Charles and someone else Lucas doesn’t recognize, move through the central foyer.

“I’m the future fucking King of England,” Charles spits, sounding angry and pompous all at once. “My dick and balls can be bright purple and covered in fucking warts, and they’ll still want to fuck me.”

Whoever his companion is laughs. “That I actually believe. Fuck man, life is unfair. Like I’m seventh in line for the throne. That should count for something. Some easy fucks at least.” A relative of Charles’ then, a cousin most likely. And clearly a charming one at that. Lucas and Chloe exchange disgusted looks as the conversation continues.

“I’m also fucking hot. Unlike you.” Charles replies and it doesn’t sound at all like the good-natured teasing between Lucas and his own friends.

“Piss off. Those perfect looks haven’t gotten you the Princess have they now?”

Princess? Manon? Fuck. Is Charles after Manon?! God Lucas hopes she knows – that she’s been warned. A chilling thought suddenly occurs to him. Is this part of the Queen’s scripted plan? For Charles and Manon to marry? Lucas can’t imagine Eliott’s is the only future she’s trying to control. God. Being forced to marry Charles? No one deserves such a fate. Most especially Manon.

The two voices are fading as they depart down another hall and it’s Charles who delivers their parting words before the voices fade entirely.

“I’m working on it.”

* * * *

Lucas takes the Jaguar XJ. It’s one of the modern cars in the collection and it’s in perfect working condition. It’s also not one of the cars used on a regular basis. When the family travels it’s done with a driver and from what Lucas understands it’s done in the Bentley’s or Rolls Royce’s. When in use, they are kept in a separate space, the so-called ‘working garage’, and only brought to Lucas’s space if in need of service. And yes, it’s exactly as ridiculous to Lucas as it would be to any other normal human being without an exorbitant and unnecessary amount of wealth.

That said, he’s not complaining about it at present, as he rips down the estate roads and into the city streets getting a feel for the luxury vehicle beneath him. He’s missed driving. He didn’t realize quite how much. But without a car of his own, his opportunity to do so was largely limited to when he worked in shops or had an opportunity to drive one of his friends’ cars. And in none of those situations had it been a luxury vehicle like this. He should probably feel more nervous about it, driving a car worth more than his own life and belonging to the motherfucking Royal Family. Instead he just feels… at home. Comfortable in a way he never realized driving made him feel.

Parking it in Yann’s neighborhood, however? That’s another story. It’s not that Yann lives in the sketchiest area. It borders the streets Lucas thinks of as his own though and in no way does a Jaguar belong. Lucas can’t leave it here overnight. Fuck. He really should have thought this through. But apparently all it takes is a face like Eliott’s and a promise of a luxury vehicle, and common sense takes a flying leap through a plate glass window.

When he enters Yann’s apartment it is to quite the sight. He shakes his head chuckling before slamming the door purposefully. Idriss groans pitifully from where he’s sprawled across Lucas’s usual bed aka. the couch.

“Why do you look hungover?” Lucas asks laughing at the sorry state of the man before him. “You weren’t even drinking.”

“Past tense,” Idriss replies hoarsely looking up at Lucas bleary-eyed. “The post-party was here.”

“Post party?” What the fuck did Lucas miss? “I thought you were with Manon.”

At mention of her name Idriss’s eyes dart away from Lucas and he rolls onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” he replies quietly. “I got her home. Then came back to party with the guys.”

“Uh, alright.” Lucas isn’t sure how carefully to tread here. Obviously, Manon is going to be a sensitive topic for Idriss but from what Lucas saw last night… they were doing better than fine. “Any particular reason you felt the need to subject yourself to drinking yourself to oblivion with my dumbass friends?” Lucas feels confident in assuming the post-party was driven by Yann, Basile and Arthur. No question.

Idriss meets Lucas’s eyes once more, his expression is bleak. “I fucked up.”

Lucas sits on the coffee table in front of him. “Alright. Well I’m familiar with that. What happened?”

“I just…” Idriss shakes his head. He shuts his eyes in a wince and whether it’s from the hangover or the remembering, Lucas isn’t sure. “I sort of freaked out.” He opens his eyes again to look at Lucas. “I yelled at her.”

“You yelled at her?” That sounds so entirely unlike Idriss, Lucas can’t help the shock clear in his voice. He might not have known Idriss long but seeing him with Manon for all of one minute was enough for Lucas to know this is out of character for Idriss.

“Fuck.” Idriss presses a hand to his face before dropping it to his chest. His fingers tap against his rib cage as he speaks. “It can’t work between us. She knows that as much as I do. It’s fucked up to make me feel like –”

“She made a move on you?” Lucas asks surprised and just a little (ok maybe a lot) proud of Manon.

“Sort of…” Idriss exhales a frustrated breath. “I don’t even know anymore. I don’t know if it really happened like I remember it or if I just imagined the whole fucking thing and freaked out over nothing.”

“So, you guys didn’t…”

“What the fuck?! No!” Idriss replies quickly in outrage.

Lucas ignores the ire being directed his way. Idriss thinks he’s a lot scarier than he is. “Nothing? Not even a kiss?”

The anger drains from Idriss’s face and he suddenly looks incredibly regretful. “No.” He suddenly sits up, swinging his legs off the couch and dropping his head into his hands. “Fuck. I really overreacted. I told her she was acting _inappropriately_.” Lucas cringes.

“You drove her home though, right? So, she couldn’t have been that pissed at you.” Lucas would have been if he was Manon but grasping at straws on Idriss’s behalf seems the right thing to do.

“She didn’t talk to me the whole time,” Idriss groans miserably.

But Lucas had seen her that very morning and, “She didn’t seem upset. When I saw her this morning. She seemed fine honestly. Maybe she’s over it already? Or she got where you were coming from?”

“Really?” Idriss looks up hopefully. “Wait – this morning? You were at the Palace?”

“Oh uh...” Lucas isn’t entirely sure how chill Idriss will be about him spending the night with Eliott, as innocent as it may have been… mostly anyways. But it’s likely Eliott will tell Idriss the truth whether Lucas does or not. “Yeah. Eliott was pretty wasted so I got him back and slept in a chair. Worst sleep of my life I swear.” He forces a slight laugh and to his relief Idriss doesn’t look particularly bothered by the news, merely nodding. He looks lost in thought and Lucas feel fairly confident it has nothing to do with him and Eliott and everything to do with a particularly beguiling Princess.

A sound comes from Yann’s room and he emerges, eyes barely open and looking no better than Idriss. “I thought I heard you,” he rasps squinting at Lucas. “Why do you look so awake?”

Lucas rolls his eyes at the miserable state of his friends. “Been up for a while now, buddy. Also had all of you morons to look out for last night.” Granted it was only one moron he ended up looking out for but it’s the thought that counts. In _theory_ he was looking out for all of them. “And unlike you two I didn’t decide on a late night – early morning? – binge drinking contest.”

Yann collapses on the couch next to Idriss and tips his head back on the cushion with an unhappy sound. “I was being a supportive friend.” He flaps a hand out to the side, catching Idriss on the shoulder in what Lucas imagines is meant to be a supportive pat. “He was all fucked up over Manon. Alcohol was the clear solution.”

Lucas looks at Idriss in surprise. Idriss told Yann?

Idriss nods in answer to Lucas’s unspoken question. “I talk when I drink,” he explains with a shrug. “Main reason I don’t drink to be honest.”

Lucas chuckles, shaking his head. “How the fuck did I get such pathetic friends? You two are a mess.” Neither of them protest, clearly having accepted the same about themselves. “Alright I’m making breakfast. Then Idriss you’re taking the Jag back to the Palace. I’ll drive your car in on Monday. And you’re gonna suck it up and apologize to Manon. Or just avoid her and act like nothing happened. What the fuck do I know?”

“Great advice man. I appreciate the support.” Idriss looks at him unimpressed.

“Hey, you want to hook-up with a dude, I’ll give you all the advice you need – and then some.” Lucas wiggles an eyebrow suggestively and is rewarded with an eye roll. “But we’re talking about the intricacies of love so… you’re on your own.”

“That’s fair,” Idriss sighs.

“Alright.” Lucas slaps his thighs and stands. “Eggs good? And toast? I think that’s about all we’ve got in the fridge. We might have some bacon left. I’ll check. I can go down to the bakery as well if you guys wanna chip in some cash.” There are general murmurs of hungover agreement.

“Make it as greasy as possible and I’ll love you forever.” Idriss looks up at him pleadingly and Yann moans in agreement.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby.” Lucas winks and make his way to the kitchen.

“Wait.” Idriss calls after him. “Why the fuck do you have the Jag?!”

Lucas laughs. “You can discuss that with your Prince. And while you’re at it maybe suggest that it’s possible to be generous to a _fault._ Oh and then tackle his total lack of appreciation for just what any of the cars in the collection are worth.”

“It was his idea?” Idriss asks though he looks like he already knows the answer.

“What do you think?” Lucas asks looking at Idriss pointedly.

“Fuck. That hopeless moron.” Idriss pulls out his phone and Lucas can only imagine the message Eliott is about to receive. He chuckles thinking about it and moves to the fridge.

“Lucas?” Yann whines and Lucas looks to him in question. “Can I have some water?”

“You can get off your ass and get some sure,” he replies.

“But Lucas,” Yann pouts, “I don’t feel good.”

Lucas sighs. When did he become the mom of the group? He’s supposed to be the allusive, badass rebel. This whole having friends and caring about human beings other than himself truly isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

He turns to get the water. And well… might as well get Idriss a glass too.

* * * *

* * * *

* * * *

“I know this one!” Lucas hears Eliott call over the din of the music pumping through the garage’s speakers. “It’s um… it’s um…”

Lucas rolls himself out from beneath the Shelby and grins up at Eliott who has come to stand next to it.

“Well?” Lucas asks with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Let’s hear it then, Princeling. I want to know all of my hard work educating you hasn’t been a waste.”

Eliott seems to be frozen in place, mouth parted as he looks down at Lucas. His eyes flick down Lucas’s body before resting once more on his face but he still says nothing. Lucas looks down at himself uneasily. He knows he likely looks a bit of a mess. He’s spent the entirety of the morning under the car with dirt, oil, and other muck dripping down on him. And his habit of constantly touching his own face, his hair, his body, means he’s left streaks of black down his t-shirt and likely his face and hair as well. His shirt has ridden up revealing his lower stomach and he tugs it down self-consciously.

“You really got me going,” Eliott suddenly speaks and Lucas’s eyes dart back to him in surprise.

“What?”

“The song,” Eliott responds after an extended pause. He speaks slower than usual, his voice unusually hoarse.

Lucas’s eyes trail from Eliott’s face to his neck and he watches as Eliott’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Fuck. He sits up quickly, running a hand through his hair. It’s not until it catches slightly that he realizes he’s likely just spread even more grease in there. _Get it together, Lucas._ He stands, wiping his hands on his chest and throwing Eliott a smile he hopes reads as lighthearted.

“Just ‘You really got me’ actually,” Lucas clears his throat. “Not bad though. But can you name the band?”

Eliott squints in concentration, his nose scrunching adorably. “Um. Kinky?”

Lucas barks a laugh. Can’t help himself. “Well I can’t say I ever thought of music education as kinky but…”

Eliott makes a noise of irritation but he’s blushing prettily and clearly trying not to smile. “The Kinks.”

“There it is!” Lucas laughs.

“It’s just easier to remember when I think of it as…” Eliott trails off embarrassed.

“Kinky?” Lucas delights in this knowledge. “Somehow I think they’d approve. And you got it in the end. Well done, Princeling.”

“Thank you,” Eliott replies primly, chin tipped up.

“Looks like you’re more than your eyelashes. Better work on that. Can’t have your Prince thinking you retain information,” Lucas continues with a grin. “Better question is,” Lucas pats the hood of the car he’s been working on, “can you name this beauty behind me?”

Eliott turns his attention away from Lucas and towards the car. Lucas exhales heavily, shoulders relaxing. Eliott walks beside the car, fingertips brushing it gently as he hums in thought.

“Can I have a hint?” Eliott looks back at Lucas with big, pleading eyes. The manipulative little… like Lucas is going to fall for that.

“Need I remind you these are _your_ cars. And they’re feeling very neglected by your lack of interest.” Lucas pets the hood of the car affectionately.

“They know I love them,” Eliott disputes. “I don’t need to know the workings under the hood or whatever to show my affection.”

“Oh of course,” Lucas replies amused. “It’s all about subtlety with you. I nearly forgot. Why shout a feeling when you can embed it beneath layers of oil paint only to be deciphered by the most knowledgeable of art historians.”

“Great works of art should be accessible to more than experts,” Eliott dismisses. “And I don’t need to know the title of a painting or a song … or a _car_ … any more than I need to understand every intricacy about it to appreciate it.”

Lucas’s jaw drops. “You really just talked your way around having to answer and I actually bought into it.” He shakes his head a little (ok maybe a lot) impressed. “You’re something, Princeling.” Eliott grins. “And for the record it’s the Shelby GT350. From the 60s mind. That part's important.”

“I knew that,” Eliott replies haughtily. “Shelbs and I are tight. We were just playing with you.”

“Well I do like it when pretty boys play with me.”

Eliott blushes nearly to the colour of the car and it only makes Lucas’s smile spread further. Lucas’s phone vibrates on the bench where it’s hooked to the sound system and he reaches for it while Eliott searches for a comeback.

_There’s trouble. It’s Emily._

His pulse spikes as he reads the words. Fuck. For Alexia to text him like this, in the middle of the day when she knows he’s working, it can’t be good. Alexia is a little like Lucas. She likes to handle her own business. The kids at the shelter fall under that umbrella. And while Lucas has always thought of them all as his own too, he respects Alexia’s desire to run the shelter as she sees fit and ask for help only when she truly believes she can’t handle things herself.

He looks back up to see Eliott staring at him expectantly, flush still clear in the apple of his cheeks. He looks like he’s waiting for Lucas to respond. Shit. Lucas hadn’t heard him speak at all.

“Fuck. Sorry. I just –” What does he do? He’s at work. The last thing he wants to do is risk this job but he can’t NOT respond to Alexia.

“What’s wrong?” Eliott’s face drops in concern. “What was the message?”

“Um.” Lucas vacillates over how much to share. But surely there’s no risk in telling Eliott. He already has an idea about the kids Lucas cares for. “It’s Alexia.”

“Your sister?” Eliott responds immediately and Lucas can’t help but smile at Eliott remembering Lucas had referred to her as such.

“Yah. There’s a problem with one of the kids. She needs my help.” Lucas twists his phone in his hand anxiously as he explains.

“Like the kid is dangerous? Is she ok?” Eliott steps a little closer as he asks, clearly picking up on Lucas’s own anxiety.

“No, no. Nothing like that. More like Emily got herself into some trouble. Alexia never texts me for help unless it’s serious,” Lucas explains meeting Eliott’s concerned gaze.

“So you need to go.” Eliott doesn’t say it like he’s angry or disappointed in Lucas. He merely states it as fact.

“Um, well, I’m at work though.” It feels ridiculous to point out to the person Lucas is technically working for – if not directly – but Eliott doesn’t seem to understand Lucas’s hesitation.

“So? If your sister needs you, you have to go,” Eliott replies seriously. “You work your butt off, Lucas. You can take the afternoon to go help your sister.”

Lucas wants to argue. Granted no one is likely to miss him. He spends most days almost entirely alone in the garage, but for Eliott’s visits. It’s his work ethic that is disagreeing adamantly with Eliott’s words but… “Yeah? That would be ok?”

“Of course!” Eliott replies firmly. “We can take the Jag. That’s the one you drove before right?”

“Wait – what?” _We?_ Did Eliott just say ‘we’?

“The Jag?” Eliott seems to think that’s the point Lucas is caught on.

“You said ‘we’.” Lucas clarifies unimpressed.

“Yes. I’m coming with you.” Eliott says it with a stubborn tilt to his mouth.

“You’re not.” _Why the fuck would he even want to?_ This doesn’t concern him at all and even more worrying, Lucas has no idea what sort of a situation he’s walking into.

“How long do you have to argue?” Eliott asks, eyebrows raised. “Because eventually you’re going to give in. But if you want to spend twenty minutes arguing about it first, we can do that.”

Has Eliott always been this cocky and self-assured? It’s doing things for Lucas he’d rather not examine too closely.

“Idriss won’t allow it.” Lucas is grasping at straws and he knows it.

Eliott exhales in annoyance. “We’re not telling him.”

“Oh yeah that seems like an excellent plan. Pissing off your personal guard.” Lucas genuinely has no desire to become the focus of Idriss’s wrath. No more than he wants to put Eliott in unnecessary danger.

“Why do you care so much what Idriss thinks? Since when are you two best friends?” He says it with all the maturity of a child who’s just been told other children are allowed to play with his favourite toy truck.

“Since we bonded over putting up with your ass,” Lucas replies with a roll of his eyes. Eliott pouts ridiculously in response. “ _Fuck_. Fine.” Eliott’s right. They both know Lucas was going to give in eventually and he really can’t afford to waste time arguing. “The Jag it is.” Eliott breaks into a pleased smile and Lucas points a warning finger at him. “But this isn’t like rescuing your wallet, ok?” Eliott hums in understanding. “You’ll do as I say. You won’t argue. I call the shots.”

“Yes Daddy,” Eliott nods seriously.

Lucas promptly chokes on air. “Oh Jesus fuck. No,” he sputters coughing.

“What?” Eliott replies blinking slowly, all false innocence.

“I should have known someone who remembers The Kinks by thinking of them as kinky would have all sorts of dirty depths.” Lucas pats a hand against his chest as he attempts to regain his breath and slow his heart rate.

“So not one of your kinks then?” Eliott asks with a wicked smile.

“There are many things I am happy to be called in bed, Princeling. Daddy ain’t one.” It’s never been a kink that ever appealed to him. Eating food off one another? Sure. Bondage play? Fuck yeah. Dirty talk? Sign him up. But a word that in any way reminds him of his excuse for a father figure? Hell fucking no.

“Oh? What do you like to be called in bed?” Eliott bites his lips, cheeks flushed and looking every bit the part of some sort of especially naughty version of Lucas’s childhood fairy-tale fantasies.

“Get in the car. Now.” Lucas points towards it, his tone brokering no room for argument.

“Well that’s a weird kink. But ok,” Eliott replies saucily and walks towards the passenger side of the Jag parked next to the rolling garage door.

“I swear to god…” Lucas grumbles beneath his breath. He quickly washes his hands in the side sink before grabbing the portable garage opener and following.

When they’re both settled in the car, seat belts on, he turns back to Eliott. “You _will_ call Idriss if you need him. If something happens and – just, if you need him. Ok?”

“I won’t need him,” Eliott replies, brows furrowed and eyes stubborn.

“If you do,” Lucas repeats resolute.

“But I won’t. I have you.” Eliott looks so sure as he says it. As though there’s no question Lucas is enough to protect him.

It’s the exact thing Lucas feared. Exactly the expectation he doesn’t want to foster in Eliott. And exactly the responsibility Lucas doesn’t want resting on his shoulders.

“We’ll see.”

* * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: surrealsunday
> 
> \- None of Eliott's art in this fic will have credit because it's done by yours truly. And little reminder, neither myself or Eliott (in this universe) are artists so... do not judge his work/ me as such
> 
> \- Anything I include with regards to the mental health aspects of this story I take from my own life... so, while I love talking out of my ass, in that particular case I am not. For example, when Lucas talks about his mom being diagnosed multiple different ways and being given all sorts of different medications, or Eliott talks about his reaction to alcohol - those experiences are a couple close family members. So everyone's experiences will be different of course, but I am treating that topic with as much sensitivity as possible and referencing personal experience.
> 
> Next chapter probably coming about the same time next week!


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God it bugs me the way that says Chapter 5: Chapter 4... why you gotta be like this ao3?! 
> 
> Getting this up a little earlier because I could manage it and I love you all. 
> 
> Chapter heading graphic courtesy of Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr)!

“Why is everybody staring?” Eliott asks as they pull up outside the shelter, parking in the one spot labeled staff parking but always left empty as no one associated with the shelter has ever had their own car. There’s a collection of kids milling about outside as there always is and they all turn in interest to inspect the car as Lucas parks.

“Maybe because I’m pulling up in a fucking Jag with the Prince as my passenger.”

“You think they’ll recognize me?”

“These kids? With their fingers on the pulse of every little thing happening online? They might. And I can’t promise you they won’t post about it.” It’s an additional factor Lucas hadn’t considered: word leaking that the Prince is at the youth shelter. The additional attention and potential danger that will draw to Eliott is daunting. Lucas really didn’t think this through. He’s tempted to text Idriss himself but Lucas has got enough potential problems on his plate for now.

“Wait here for a second.”

“What? Why?!” Eliott replies, instantly argumentative.

Lucas does nothing but raise a challenging eyebrow.

“Ugh. Fine.” Eliott sulks and collapses back into this seat.

“I’ll be right back.” Lucas hops out of the car.

“You didn’t bring us anything?” is the immediate greeting he receives as he approaches the kids collected outside. He recognizes most. Only a couple new faces among them.

“So it’s like that is it?” Lucas asks unimpressed. In truth he does feel a little guilty. He almost always tries to come with something for them: pastries, snacks, a new movie or game he found at the thrift store, whatever he might be able to swing. They’re easy to please and anything new seems to delight them. He’ll make up for it another time.

“What’s with the hot ass ride?” One of the older girls asks and for a heart-stopping moment he thinks she’s talking about Eliott until his brain catches up with his dick and he realizes she’s referring to the car.

“It’s a friend’s.” He leaves it at that.

“Some friend,” she replies impressed.

“About that…” He takes a minute to look around at each of them seriously. “I’m going to ask something kind of ridiculous of you.” They all look on with peaked interest now. “Be cool around him? And if you take pictures – which yes, I know you’re going to – don’t post anything until after we leave? Can I trust you guys with that?” If he’s honest, he thinks it’s asking too much. It’s not that they’re bad kids. Not at all. But if any of them recognize Eliott, the excitement of having a Prince in their mix is likely not something that will be easily contained. But it’s worth at least trying.

“Why? Who is he?” Adam, one of the younger boys asks, eyes wide and not too subtly looking around Lucas towards the car.

“Someone who could get in a lot of trouble for being here. You guys of all people should understand that, yeah?” It’s maybe a bit of a low blow but he needs them to understand the significance of what he’s asking.

“Yeah, we’ll be chill,” Nathan’s voice comes from behind the others. He’s one of the older boys at the shelter at twenty. Lucas hasn’t gotten to know him particularly well as he hasn’t been with them long and he largely keeps to himself. But he’s got the sort of ‘cool’ aura that has the other kids flocking to him, following him, and mirroring his every behaviour.

Lucas smiles at him gratefully as the rest of the kids nod in agreement, following Nathan’s lead.

“Thanks. Spread word to the others?” He doesn’t direct the request to any of them in particular but a few of them nod, the responsibility Lucas has given them perhaps not something they’re used to but a show of trust they clearly are taking seriously.

He turns and makes his way back to the car, moving to the passenger side and opening the door for Eliott. “Alright, let’s do this.” He extends a hand and waits until Eliott clasps it to pull him up and out of the car.

“What did you say to them?” Eliott asks curiously, looking towards the kids who are not even attempting to hide the fact that they’re gawking.

“Just told them to be on their best behaviour. They have important people to meet after all.”

Eliott smiles, clearly recognizing his own words being parroted back to him. “And what’s bad behaviour for them?”

“It’s just a turn of phrase, sasspup.” Lucas winks. “They’ve never done a thing wrong in their lives.”

Eliott chuckles but Lucas can see he’s nervous as they come up to the group awaiting them.

“Spawn,” Lucas nods at the kids, “meet Eliott. Eliott meet the spawn.”

There are groans and irritated sounds amongst them and Lucas delights in being able to piss them all of simultaneously.

“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” While he was clearly nervous only a few seconds prior, Eliott no longer shows it. He’s all charm and proper manners. Lucas supposes that comes with the trade.

The kids stare slack-jawed, none of them speaking. Lucas can’t even be sure it’s because they recognize Eliott or if it’s just… Eliott. At the very least none of them have their phones out… yet.

“Alright, on that note.” He pulls Eliott alongside him and through the front door. He scans the area for Alexia while Eliott takes in the space inquisitively beside him. There’s no one in the front room but he can hear voices coming from what he’s willing to bet is the back office.

He turns to Eliott. “Wait here.” Eliott doesn’t argue this time, seeming to sense Lucas’s anxiety, he only nods.

As Lucas approaches the office, he can hear Alexia speaking and another male voice, rich with the sort of arrogant authority indicative of only one thing: he’s a cop. Fuck. Would have been nice to have a heads up that the cops were involved. But then Lucas imagines Alexia had her hands full.

He takes immediate inventory of the office the moment he walks in. Aleixa stands in front of the desk, a policeman standing in front of her, arms crossed, another man behind him, smartly dressed, and then there’s Emily, sitting in a chair next to the desk, head hanging. She looks up as Lucas walks in, announcing himself by clearing his throat. All eyes turn to him.

“Alexia,” he acknowledges with a nod coming to stand near her, partially blocking Emily from the rest of the men in the room. “Update.”

“Excuse me, young man,” the cop, who can’t be all that much older than Lucas, interrupts, “we’re in the middle of a legal matter here.”

“Yes, I realize that.” Lucas smiles as condescendingly as possible. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Are you a lawyer?” The officer looks mildly concerned for a split-second until he takes in Lucas’s disheveled, oil-stained appearance and clearly dismisses the idea.

“Be a dear and quiet down for a moment now while the adults talk.” He hears Emily snicker quietly and shoots her a warning look.

“Short version?” Alexia speaks. “Ems here decided to help herself to this gentleman’s watch.”

“And wallet!” Comes the angry voice of the man at the centre of discussion.

“And wallet,” Alexia adds clearly fed-up. “And well, as you can see, he’s not too pleased about it.”

“And we know Em is responsible how?” Lucas directs the question at the cop.

“She was caught attempting to sell the watch. This gentleman followed her to the pawn shop,” he answers with obvious reluctance. He’s likely not used to having to answer to someone like Lucas. “There’s no question she’s responsible.”

Lucas looks to Emily and she averts her eyes in response, staring intently down at the ground in front of her. Fuck. Lucas probably could have handled this a lot more easily if the police hadn’t gotten involved.

The cop continues, “She gave this as her home address. She refuses to give her full name. She has no I.D. on her. This is going to end with her being put in the system.” _Like hell it will._

“If she was caught when selling the watch, obviously the stolen items have been returned. So, what’s the problem? Let us discipline her and call it a day.” Lucas suggests it in what he hopes is an affable manner. But then… he’s never been particularly good at making nice with types like this.

“I’m pressing charges,” the man behind the policeman sneers. “Street filth like her never learn their lesson unless you make them.”

Rage blinds Lucas. His vision whites out and for a moment he’s honestly not sure he can control himself. It’s Eliott’s voice that brings him back.

“Is that how we speak about children who need help? Who have been failed by all of us?” He asks as he walks into the office.

And it’s a strange thing to watch. Because it’s Eliott … the dumbass who trips over his own feet and blushes at a hint of innuendo despite having a mind almost as dirty as Lucas’s… and yet, it’s not. He walks into the room every bit a Prince and it’s clear the other men are immediately cowed by it. Unlike Lucas in all his car mechanic, oil-slicked glory, Eliott _looks_ expensive. His head is up, his eyes sharp, his shoulders thrown back and there’s an air of authority about him that makes the cop’s attempts at the same seem equivalent to a child playing cops & robbers in a sandbox.

The policeman unsurprisingly recognizes Eliott. The man however only seems to recognize someone of his own stature and while thrown off-balance for a moment, he now turns to Eliott with contempt.

“Just who are you to speak to me like –”

“Your Highness,” the policeman cuts the man’s rant off. “Or excuse me, Your Royal Highness sir.” He fumbles with the etiquette and does an awkward half-bow.

“Highness?” The man whispers and Lucas can see the blood drain from his face as he looks at Eliott once more and puts the pieces together.

Eliott does nothing to assuage either of their anxiety. He looks briefly to Lucas and his eyes soften for a split second before he turns his head back to the men before him with barely contained disdain.

“Right then. Please explain why you are verbally abusing a child inside a youth shelter operating with my support?”

* * * *

“That was so fucking badass!” Emily crows, eyes shining as she looks at Eliott. “I thought they were going to shit their pants!”

“Em,” Lucas turns to her, “sit down and shut up.”

She rolls her eyes like the sullen teenager she is but does as told, plopping herself in the sofa with a self-indulgent huff.

“You shouldn’t speak to her like that,” Eliott reproves with a frown.

“Don’t tell me how to speak to her. And don’t distract me. We’re discussing _you_ here and the fact that you totally inserted yourself where you weren’t needed.” It’s a bald-faced lie. Lucas was screwed in that situation, but it nonetheless grates on him that Eliott had to save his ass.

“I’m just saying, if you want her to treat you with respect, you should afford her the same,” Eliott lectures, still all firm authority and it’s as hot as it is really fucking annoying.

“Would you stop fucking lecturing me? You don’t know what’s best for her.” Lucas decides to focus on the ‘annoying’ part of the equation.

“And you do?” Eliott questions with obvious disbelief.

“More than you.”

“What – with all the experience you have raising children?”

“Since when do _you_ have experience raising children?”

“You sound like my parents,” Emily butts in and both their eyes swing to her and surprise. “Well, I mean,” she rethinks, “if my parents were young and hot and actually acted like they loved one another and shit.”

Well that’s awkward-as-fuck. Total and utter silence follows her proclamation. Lucas doesn’t dare look at Eliott, instead keeping his eyes locked on Emily. A change of subject seems the best move from here.

“Why did you do it, Em?” He asks it as gently as possible but he’s well aware no matter his tone, she’s likely to respond defensively. She’s a mini-him after all.

She shrugs, her reply hostile. “I needed the money.”

“Yeah, we all need money, Ems,” Lucas sighs. “Alexia said she’d gotten you involved in the employment program… that it was looking good. Why the fuck screw that up for a quick buck?”

“I need it now,” she says, eyes hard. “I don’t have time to wait for a fucking paycheque. I need money now. I need to get out of here.”

Eliott is suddenly at her side, sitting next to her but not touching. When he speaks it’s with a soft, patient cadence Lucas doesn’t think he could replicate on his best day. “May I ask why you need money so desperately? What it is you need to get away from?”

Emily’s head droops a little, hair falling into her face. “I need to leave the city – to get as far away as possible, as fast as possible. That takes money.”

“Ok.” Eliott says no more, simply leaving it at that and giving her time to continue should she choose.

She brushes her hair back a little to look at Eliott. “My dad knows I’m here. He found out where I’m staying.”

A chill runs up Lucas’s spine. He doesn’t know a thing about Emily’s past or what brought her to them. Neither does Alexia. But what he does know is that fear. The way her voice shakes as she speaks of him. Her need to get away. Her willingness to achieve that goal by any means.

“He won’t come anywhere near you,” Lucas responds before Eliott can. “I promise you.”

“You can’t.” She looks up and it’s as though she’s already given up all hope. “You don’t understand. He’s… an important person. Rich. You can’t protect me from him.”

“I can,” Lucas insists. He means it. “We have private rooms here too. Did you know?” She shakes her head sniffling miserably. “Well we do. We can arrange for you to stay in one. No one here will allow your father in the building. We have rules about the adults that enter here. He can’t storm the place. Not even with money and influence on his side.”

“You don’t understand though.” A few tears slip down her cheeks and Lucas kneels in front of her. “You don’t understand what he’s like.”

“Maybe not him in particular,” Lucas agrees. “But Ems I know abusive fathers, ok? Mine was a piece of shit. Powerful and important, just as I’m sure yours is. And I got away at thirteen and never looked back.” Lucas can feel Eliott’s eyes on him now, but he keeps his own on Emily.

She stares down at him, eyes wide. “You did?” He nods. “And he didn’t try to get you back?”

“He did,” Lucas admits. With a smile he adds, “Alexia protected me. Just like she’ll protect you. We all will.”

“And hey,” Eliott adds with a small smile as she and Lucas both turn to look at him, “I promise you, he’s not more powerful than me.” It’s an arrogant thing to say but it makes Emily giggle and… it’s true. Most importantly, it’s _true_. Having seen Eliott handle himself with that cop and man high on a power trip, Lucas can confidently say that with Eliott on their side, they’ll be able to crush any countermoves by her father.

“What do you say before his head gets big enough to float away, we go watch a movie? We’ll order pizza and just laze about for the rest of the afternoon, yeah?” Lucas squeezes her hand quickly before standing and motioning for her to do the same.

“You’re just going to make us watch one of those terrible movies of yours.” And there’s the bratty teenager Lucas knows. He’s relieved to have her back, eye roll directed at him and all.

“They are anything but terrible. You will come to appreciate them eventually,” Lucas says with authority.

“Like your choice of music?” Eliott asks like the sassy Prince that _he_ is.

“Oh my god, right?!” Emily smiles at Eliott, delighted to have someone on her side in this familiar argument. “He listens to all these old people. It’s so lame.”

“Hey!” Why does he suddenly feel like the oldest person in the room? “Stop ganging up on me! I’m opening both your eyes to the classics. There’s a reason they’re considered that you know. Because they’re _classic_.”

“Ya ‘cause old people like you won’t let them die.” Emily flicks her hair back and Lucas is willing to bet if she had gum, she’d be snapping it obnoxiously in her mouth right now to truly complete the picture of insolent teen. 

“He’s totally an old man inside a hot guy’s body, I swear! Why else would he love all this old stuff, right?” Eliott adds and he and Emily giggle conspiratorially.

“Inconceivable!” Lucas scoffs loudly. He’s met with blank stares. “You see! That is a reference you both should get. This is why you need to be educated.” They simultaneously groan in complaint. It would be adorable if it wasn’t an outrage. “Now get your ass up, Buttercup. You too, brat.” He shoves them both out the office door and with one final exasperated sound, Emily leads the way down the hall to the TV room.

“And Buttercup?” Eliott asks. “Is it a movie reference too?” Lucas smiles as answer. “From what one?”

“From my favourite movie.” It’s the only answer Eliott’s getting. At least for tonight.

“Are we going to watch it?” Eliott asks curiosity peaked.

“I don’t know if you’re ready for that one.” _The Princess Bride_ is a movie near and dear to Lucas’s heart. Sharing it has always been something he’s done with reservation. It’s like sharing a private part of himself, a private memory. Like in doing so he’s projecting an image of he and his mom tucked under blankets watching it every night for a month straight, reading the book it was based on during the daytime. She’s been unwell at the time, but Lucas hadn’t known. All he’d known was his mom wanted to watch it with him, over and over again and share her delight. He recognizes the signs of her illness now, but it still remains one of his best memories. Watching it now, even without her, feels exactly like it did then. And even in those moments when it feels as though she’s slipping away entirely, sunken too deeply in the depths of her own mind, something as silly as watching The Princess Bride brings her back to him, at least in memory.

“But we’ll watch it eventually?” Eliott asks.

Lucas grins. Eliott was totally exaggerating his dislike for Lucas’s tastes as a show for Emily. Lucas _knew_ it. “Of course. We can plan a movie night with the gang.”

“Yeah?” Eliott looks delighted by the prospect.

“I can’t have my brilliant movie references continue to go over your head, sasspup. It’s a travesty!” That would be the understatement of the century. And Lucas wants to share it. He wants Eliott to see it. He’s not sure how he knows but somehow, he does. Eliott will appreciate it. Lucas is sure of it. Eliott will love it like Lucas and his mom love it.

“Ok. When?” Eliott is nearly vibrating with excitement.

“I dunno. End of the week? I think everyone could use a break from partying. Maybe a quiet movie night Friday is in order instead.” Group dynamics in that kind of environment would be extra entertaining as well. He makes a note to ensure _both_ Manon and Idriss come.

“Perfect. We have a theatre in the Palace with couches.”

“Of course you do.”

“Are you guys coming or what?” Emily yells from the TV room. Lucas hadn’t even noticed he and Eliott had stopped walking and turned towards one another instead.

Eliott moves to continue to the room but turns to look back at Lucas when he doesn’t hear him following. “You coming?”

Lucas smiles, “After you,” and follows.

* * * *

* * * *

In the end, he’s late. He’s never really thought of himself as someone who could get so caught up in a job, he’d lose track of time. It’s just that his work at the Palace doesn’t always feel like a job. He loves working on the cars. He loves getting lost in the details, solving problems like a puzzle, without a care for how long it takes or how messy the process. That is until he’s running from the garage, twenty minutes late to meet Idriss, sweaty and covered in a mix of motor oil and straight-up dirt. Lovely. When he’d realized the time, he’d only grabbed his change of clothes and booked it from the garage. It’s not until he reaches the gym and bursts into the room that he remembers Eliott’s request.

Idriss and Eliott freeze, in the middle of what looks to be a bit of a heated discussion. Neither of them seem particularly happy with the other as they turn and look at Lucas in surprise.

Idriss’s face relaxes into a smile at the sight of him. “Thought you’d ditched me.”

“I would never,” Lucas denies with an exaggerated gasp. “Most especially not when Eliott asked for a threesome so sweetly. Who am I to deny him that right of passage?”

“I didn’t!” Eliott squawks in objection while Idriss’s face contorts in something like amused disgust. “You are so –” He makes a high-pitched sound of irritation, “I did not say that!”

“Sure, sure, Princeling. Cold feet? It’s understandable.” Lucas winks at Idriss. “I could see being a little intimidated by the two of us.”

Idriss shakes his head laughing, rolling his eyes up towards the ceiling as though silently asking for help from some higher power.

“I’m not intimidated,” Eliott replies and there’s a mischievous little twinkle in his eye suddenly. “Who says I haven’t had a threesome with Idriss before?”

Idriss sputters and starts coughing uncontrollably. Lucas is surprised he’s not doing the same. It feels like the air has been ripped right from his lungs. Idriss and Eliott? The thought scalds, searing a painful, throbbing mark on his brain. He hates it. He _hates_ the thought. He wants to push them apart where they stand together. He wants to hit something. Maybe Idriss.

“You have?” Lucas would like to think he manages to sound calm and collected. But the words stretch and strain in the air, taught as a rubber band on the precipice of snapping.

Eliott holds his gaze for one, two, three painstaking seconds before his face suddenly cracks into a smile. “No.”

“Damn right, no! What the fuck is with you two bringing me into this? Leave me the hell out of it!” Idriss rants from beside them still regaining his breath.

Lucas ignores him, choosing to keep his focus on Eliott instead and let the feeling of relief wash over him, bathing it in before he dismisses it entirely.

“I don’t like to share either,” Eliott adds, biting his lip as he stares at Lucas and his cheeks redden just a little.

“Well,” Idriss voices loudly from beside them and then his hands are slapping down on Eliott’s shoulders, “glad we got that sorted. No threesomes. Neither of you are sleeping with me. Can we train now, or do you feel the need to make this even fucking weirder?”

Lucas blinks out of the thrall he seems to have sunken into while looking at Eliott and turns to Idriss. “Now, now, Idri, never say never.”

Idriss sighs the sigh of the long-suffering. “You realize you’re only providing all the motivation I need to kick your ass today, right?”

“Ohhhh,” Lucas taunts with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “Careful now. Don’t get me all worked up before we’ve even begun. I want to last.”

“Fucks sake,” Idriss grumbles, turning and walking to the bucket holding the boxing gloves and pads.

Lucas snickers to himself and reaches to pull his shirt off.

“What are you doing?!” Eliott asks. It’s a squeak, high-pitched and panicked.

Lucas drops his shirt to the floor, looking at Eliott curiously. “What?” Eliott’s eyes are firmly locked away from Lucas, his head turned and eyes so clearly trying _not_ to look. It makes Lucas grin. “I’m getting _changed_ , Eliott. Don’t tell me you thought I was going to throw Idriss down right here and have my way with him.”

He hears Idriss mumble something where he’s rooting through supplies, but Lucas can’t focus on his voice long enough to make out whatever unflattering insults are being hurled his way. Not when there is a Prince to be teased.

Eliott’s eyes finally meet Lucas’s own. “You are such a… a…”

“Heathen?” Lucas asks with a grin.

Eliott rolls his eyes. _Eleven_. “Put a shirt on.”

“Why?” Lucas grins, enjoying Eliott’s discomfort far more than he would have expected. “Is it the perky nips that have you all hot n’ bothered? I did warn you…”

“Oh my god,” Eliott and Idriss say it simultaneously and with exactly the same mix of disbelief and exasperation. The synchronicity of it makes them all pause. And then they’re laughing.

“Ok, ok.” Lucas grabs for his tank top as their laughter peters down. “Wouldn’t want to distract you both with my sexy nips when there’s not even a threesome to look forward to at the end of it.”

“How the fuck does Yann put up with you?” Idriss asks, returning to his task of wrapping his hands.

“I think he tunes me out half the time,” Lucas admits. He slips his tank top on and only then realizes his hands are still filthy and he’s now spread dirt and grime to the clean shirt. “Shit. Hang on a second I’m going to wash up a little.” He grabs his shorts while he’s at it. “And I’ll do you a favour and change into these in the washroom.” He winks at Idriss, and he must say, Idriss has truly honed his ‘you’re a fucking idiot’ look over these last couple of weeks. At least when he directs it at Lucas.

“Wait.” Eliott’s hand on his bicep stops him just as he goes to pass. “You have something on your face.”

Likely motor oil or any number of other things that had been dripping down onto him while he’d been under the Shelby. “Eh, it’s fine. I’ll get it when I wash up.” He moves to continue but Eliott’s hand tightens on his arm. Lucas looks at him confused.

“No, I can get it.” Eliott steps closer. “Here.” Lucas freezes as Eliott’s thumb comes to his cheek and… _smears whatever was there even further_. The _disrespect_. Eliott grins pleased. “There. Perfect.”

“You think you’re real cute.” Lucas wishes he could claim that wasn’t the case.

“I’m pretty sure we’ve established it’s you who thinks that actually.” This _sassy_ little…

“You know that sass isn’t going to save you the second I put on those gloves.” Lucas can’t wait to get his hands on him. Wait… not like _that_. Shut up, brain.

“I thought I told you, you don’t need to handle me with gloves.”

“That wit isn’t going to help you either.”

“You sure about that?” Eliott bites his lip around a smile.

Lucas’s is primed to respond with… some sort of clever retort he can no longer remember because suddenly he’s flat on his back, his legs having been kicked out from under him courtesy of Idriss.

“Idriss!” Lucas hears Eliott yelp but he’s too busy retaliating to give him any further attention. Lucas swings his legs out and sideways, catching Idriss at the ankles and sending him toppling to the mat next to Lucas.

Lucas rolls immediately to pin Idriss but neither of them are novices at this – though until now they’ve never hand-to-hand grappled together – and Idriss counters just as quickly. It’s hard even for Lucas to tell which of them is holding dominance at any particular moment. Idriss is bigger and Lucas will admit, much stronger, but it’s easy to use that to his own advantage. Lucas is faster and can maneuver in ways Idriss’s size won’t allow him. They exchange arm locks for leg takedowns, pins for rolls, until at one point Lucas manages to get Idriss face down on the mat in what he knows is a particularly painful arm lock.

Idriss struggles against it before relaxing his muscles in something like surrender. “How the fuck are you so strong?!”

Lucas grins testing his hold on Idriss with a flex of said muscles. “Muscles do it for you, hunh, big guy?”

“That’s it!”

Lucas expects him to resume struggling against the grip. Instead he jerks his lower body up sharply. It likely resembles something like a buck and Lucas will have to find time to delight in that later. As it is his weight is hurled forward and while it results in him wrenching Idriss’s arms in a way he didn’t even intend, it also forces him to relax his hold long enough for Idriss to turn his body around, rolling them swiftly and pinning Lucas by his wrists. Idriss’s weight crushes him into the mat and Lucas is forced to gasp for air.

“This do it for _you_?” Idriss asks squeezing Lucas’s wrists tightly.

“What – do you think I’m going to say no?” Lucas wheezes as he struggles in the hold.

“Idriss, stop!” Eliott shouts from above them and then just as suddenly as he was pinned, Idriss is being bodily shoved off him by Eliott, who seems to have charged Idriss in order to do so not accounted for exactly where his own body would end up in doing so… which is sideways directly on Lucas.

“Oof!” What little air was left in Lucas’s lungs is promptly expelled in a gust as Eliott lands on top of him.

“You dumbass!” Idriss reaches from where he’s landed beside Lucas to smack Eliott on the head.

“Don’t!” Eliott cries and struggles to sit up, planting his hands on Lucas’s stomach to do so and pressing up… which is only the most cruel form of unintentional tickling Lucas could ever imagine.

“Eliott! NO!” He starts laughing immediately as he reaches for Eliott’s hands, wrenching them from his stomach and causing Eliott to once more collapse onto him.

“Lucas!” Eliott cries in protest as he lands awkwardly, chest to Lucas’s stomach, hands pulled sideways in Lucas’s hold. “Wait… are you ticklish?” His eyes widen as he comes to the realization.

“Fuck off!” This is NOT something he needed known. “Get off me!” He releases Eliott’s hands and shoves and his shoulder.

“Bet that’s the first time he’s ever said that!” Idriss snickers from where he comfortably remains flat on his back next to them.

“You can fuck off too!”

“I can’t believe you’re ticklish.” Eliott’s eyes gleam with this new information. “Everywhere or just here?” Eliott sits up slightly, resting his hand gently on Lucas’s stomach.

“I swear to god I will destroy you, your children, your children’s children if you even think about it.”

Eliott bites his lip and stares.

“Why do I feel like I just walked in on something sexual?” An amused voice asks from the door to the gym. All eyes turn in that direction. Lucille.

Eliott moves up and off him at the sight of her, thankfully not pressing into Lucas’s stomach this time. And Lucas sits up slightly, resting his weight back on his hands on the mat. He grins.

“You wouldn’t happen to mean a _threesome_ would you?”

“Oh god,” Idriss groans miserably. “Why does this keep happening?”

Lucille laughs. “Well it wasn’t _not_ what I was thinking.”

Damn. Lucas really likes her. “I like you.” Might as well declare it. She’s just caught him in a compromising position with two men. In Lucas’s books that makes them near besties.

She laughs again blushing in a way that is entirely like the Prince now standing and walking to her side.

“I like you too,” she smiles.

“You coming to the movie night?” He decides to ask it on a whim. It’s likely Eliott has already extended her an invitation as she seems to spend the majority of her time at the Palace but Lucas feels the sudden desire to make his own welcome to the hang-out clear.

“What movie night?” Or… maybe not.

Lucas looks at Eliott in confusion.

“I hadn’t – um,” he nervously scrubs a hand through his hair, “I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone yet.”

Lucas isn’t sure how to feel about that. Should he be offended? Eliott has never been embarrassed to hang out with him before.

“Alright.” Lucas ignores the unease clouding his thoughts and looks back to Lucille. “Well we’re hanging out Friday night. The whole gang.” He swings a hand sideways, catching Idriss in the stomach.

“ _Fucker_.” Idriss groans unhappily but doesn’t bother moving from his prone position.

“Gonna watch The Princess Bride,” Lucas adds.

Lucille gasps, her face lighting up. “I _love_ that movie!”

Lucas’s jaw drops in happy surprise. He looks at Eliott. “How is it you’re surrounded by the most incredible women – women with _taste_ – and you turned out so lame?”

“I’m not lame.” Eliott looks genuinely a little hurt as he says it and it’s like a sharp pain to Lucas’s side… though that could also just be where Idriss caught him with an elbow while wrestling.

“You’re totally lame,” comes Idriss’s voice and while Lucas appreciates the support, he’d much rather have that look disappear from Eliott’s face.

“What’s lame is liking pistachio ice cream,” Lucas says with a wink directed at Eliott. The response is immediate. Eliott’s face brightens and a smile stretches across it.

“Pistachio is great. You don’t know anything,” comes a grumble from beside him.

Lucas has to laugh at that. _Of course_ Idriss would like pistachio. He’s so fucking transparent it’s both pathetic and incredibly adorable. Poor in love bastard.

“Well that decides it. If anyone’s winning the title of lame here. It’s you.”

Idriss makes a noise of offense but responds, “That’s probably fair.”

It makes them all laugh. 

“Well I’m in,” Lucille smiles before turning to Eliott. “And I’m sorry to interrupt the fun but –”

“My mother?” Eliott finishes for her with a grimace.

“Yes,” Lucille sighs. “She’d like to see us both.”

Eliott nods, clearly unhappy with this news and turns back to Lucas and Idriss, neither of whom have bothered to move from the floor.

“Um… I’ll see you later?” He’s looking at Lucas as he asks.

Lucas shrugs with a nod. Obviously, they will. It’s not like Eliott doesn’t know where to find him on a nearly daily basis.

“We should do this again.” The tone is decisive but there’s a definite uncertainty to the way he’s looking at Lucas.

Lucas looks to Idriss flat on his back, down at himself, a lot more rumpled than when he came in and still just as filthy.

“You want another go, hunh?”

Eliott smirks a little, amused. “Barely got to prove myself.”

“Barely? You didn’t at all,” Lucas dismisses.

“Well it was my first time is all. Nobody lasts their first time. You can’t hold that against me.”

Lucas’s jaw drops. _Fuck_. When did Eliott start breathing innuendo the same as Lucas?

Eliott lets loose a giggle at the look on Lucas’s face. “Besides,” he continues, “I managed to get him off,” he gestures at Idriss with an extended pause that is doing nothing for Lucas’s heart rate, “ _you,_ didn’t I?”

“I am actually going to murder you both. I hope you realize that,” Idriss moans unhappily with a hand pressed to his face.

“Well that’s not a comforting thing to hear coming from his personal guard,” Lucas scoffs, hitting Idriss once more in the stomach… mostly just to see his abs clench in response. Lucas is just appreciative of a muscular male form ok? No one could blame him. He turns back to Eliott. “Next time you want a little hand-to-hand, Princeling, I’m your man.” Two can play this game.

“And on that note,” Lucille says as she grabs Eliott’s arm, “we are leaving.”

“Yes god, please,” Idriss whines. “Make it end!”

“I’ll see you,” Eliott smiles, looking only at Lucas.

“See you, Princeling.”

Lucille drags Eliott by the arm as he continues to smile at Lucas until the gym door swinging shut behind them blocks him from view.

“He’s never allowed to come to training again,” Idriss states, voice monotone.

“I for one thought that went quite well,” Lucas sniffs, offended on Eliott’s behalf. “A little banter, a little hand-to-hand, what’s not to love?”

Idriss pulls his hand back from where he’d had it flattened to his face and he looks at Lucas. “I have never been more motivated to kick your ass.”

“Well it’s good to know what gets you going,” Lucas smirks.

“Why did I become friends with you?”

“I don’t believe I gave you much choice in the matter my dear, Idriss. That’s how I work.”

Idriss hums in agreement, finally moving to get up and retrieve the boxing gloves and pads.

“Hey,” Lucas add, “you’re coming to the movie night though, right?” He stands up and follows.

“Can you promise you won’t use it as an excuse to make a million jokes about banging me?”

“I cannot do that, no.”

Idriss chuckles. “Yeah. Didn’t think so.”

He looks amused rather than bothered but just the same… “If it really bugs you though, I’ll stop,” Lucas says entirely serious. As much fun as he has at Idriss’s expense, he’d never actually want to make him genuinely uncomfortable. He likes Idriss.

“Nah, I don’t mind. It’s an ego boost if I’m honest.” Idriss winks and Lucas smiles relieved. “It’s Eliott you gotta worry about.”

“What?” Lucas scrunches his nose in confusion. He’s 99.99% positive Eliott enjoys their banter as much as Lucas. “He doesn’t mind the innuendo.”

“He doesn’t mind when it’s directed at _him_ ,” Idriss says with an eyebrow raised.

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, you constantly throwing suggestive comments my way is not only confusing the guy but it’s putting my life in danger.”

Lucas scoffs. What a ridiculous notion. It’s fine. The dynamic the three of them have together is _fine_. “Don’t be stupid. Eliott knows I’m not serious.”

“Yeah that’s part of the problem.”

“What are you even talking about?” Lucas is lost.

“Nothing. Whatever. I’ll be there for the movie night. You invite Manon?” He’s trying far too hard to sound casual as he asks, and Lucas isn’t sure why he even bothers but he’s nevertheless thankful for the topic change.

“Was going to. Maybe you could handle it?”

Idriss swallows heavily fiddling with the glove in his hand. “Yeah. Sure. I can do that.”

“Cool,” Lucas grins. “Now then.” He reaches forward before Idriss can stop him, wiping his hands thoroughly down the front of Idriss’s shirt. “hand me the pads. I believe someone was looking forward to trying to pound my face in.”

Idriss has frozen, staring down at his now stained shirt. He brings his eyes back up slowly to meet Lucas’s. “I promise, there isn’t going to be any ‘trying’ about it.”

“You and your sweet talk.” Lucas smirks. “Might need to take that shirt off though. Lookin’ like a damn slob you are.”

Idriss shakes his head with a smile and abruptly wings the pads at Lucas, just almost catching him directly in the face.

“Pads on and up,” Idriss commands.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Lucas mocks but does as told, strapping his hands into the pads.

“And when Eliott comes to murder me in my bed in the middle of the night, you better come to my defense,” Idriss says slapping his gloves together and readying his stance.

“Well I’ll be right there beside you so of course I will.”

Idriss swings with a punch before Lucas has even assumed a defensive stance and Lucas just barely blocks it in time. But well… Lucas can’t say he totally blames him. He definitely deserved that one.

* * * *

* * * *

* * * *

“Yann my good man,” Lucas yells from where he’s sitting cross-legged on the kitchen’s center island shoveling the caramel popcorn into his mouth, “this is an outstanding batch of popcorn if I do say so myself.”

Yann grabs the large bowl of popcorn from his hands, replacing it with a smaller one. “Stop getting your grubby little hands all over everyone’s popcorn, you heathen.”

Lucas snorts, “ _Heathen_.”

“What?” Yann looks back to him from where he’s arranging a bin of snacks for them to carry to the theatre.

“Nothing,” Lucas chuckles. “Eliott called me that the other day is all. Heathen. Apparently, I’m getting a rep.”

Yann hums. “Speaking of Eliott…”

“Yeah?” Lucas mumbles, mouth full. God bless his younger self for becoming best friends with a future chef.

“Just how disgusting are you two planning on being tonight? I want to prepare myself.”

“The fuck you talking about?” A little popcorn flies from his mouth as he speaks.

Yann raises an unimpressed eyebrow as he answers. “C’mon. We’re watching The Princess Bride and you and Eliott planned it.”

“So?” Lucas doesn’t know what the fuck Yann thinks he’s getting at but he’s wrong.

“So, you were quoting that movie for a year before you ever let me watch it. And even then, you threatened me to within an inch of my life that I had no choice but to love it.”

“Still not seeing your point here…”

“Does Eliott know how important it is to you?”

“Stop exaggerating. He knows it’s my favourite movie.”

“Does he know why?”

“Yann, you’re my bestest fwwwiend in the whole wide world and I know it’s a shock, but I share things with you that I don’t with others.”

Yann appraises Lucas with his eyes for a moment before nodding slightly as though he’s judged Lucas’s answer acceptable. Either that or he’s smartly decided the discussion isn’t worth an argument.

“Alright,” he takes the bowl from Lucas’s hands, ignoring Lucas’s sounds of protest, “let’s see if you’ve still got it.” He backs up until he’s a good few meters from Lucas and raises a hand, popcorn ready at the throw.

“Oh hell yeah!” Lucas cheers.

They mess around tossing popcorn back and forth and rounding up the rest of the drinks and snack supplies before Basile and Daphne show up and they all make their way to the theatre. Neither Yann or Basile have ever seen it in their time working at the Palace but to no one’s surprise, Daphne knows the way. They run into Chloe as they’re rounding the corner into the hall towards the main foyer. 

“Heya babe,” Lucas greets, stepping forward to kiss her on both cheeks. “Damn. You look fucking hot.” He steps back to take her in fully. She’s got on skinny jeans, a low-cut top, and while Lucas is anything but a boob guy he can appreciate the impressive amount of skin she’s showing nonetheless, her hair is a sexy, tousled mess, and she’s done her makeup, deep red lips to top off the whole look. If Lucas didn’t know better, he’d say she was looking to get _laid_. “Just who are you looking to impress?”

She blushes, fiddling with her bangs as they all turn to continue down the hall. “Do I? I mean – look good? It’s not too much?”

“Well I usually save my getting-laid tops for the clubs, but hey, you do you.” A flicker of insecurity shines in her eyes as she turns to look at him. Lucas adds, “You look amazing. Trust me. I have no vested interest in saying that.”

Chloe giggles and wraps herself around his arm as they walk. “Thanks.”

“Really though,” he speaks a little more quietly now, conscious of Yann, Daphne and Basile walking in front of them, though they seem to be distracted by their own conversation. “What’s the occasion? Are you going out after the movie?”

Chloe shrugs. “I might see that person. The same one from when I left the club?” She meets his eyes to confirm he remembers. “Maybe after the movie.”

“Ohhh,” Lucas jostles her a little teasingly. “So this is a ‘getting laid’ look. I knew it.”

Chloe smirks a little. “Best to be prepared.”

“Always my philosophy.” He grins pulling a condom from his pocket and waving it in her face obnoxiously.

She snorts and wacks him across the chest with her free hand. “You pervert! Who exactly are you planning on using that with?”

He wiggles his eyebrows at her as they enter the theatre room. “Well Idriss has been making eyes at me you know.”

“Oh my god,” she laughs. “He’s going to kill you one of these days, you know that right?”

“It’s an acceptable risk.”

“And you should watch saying that around Eliott,” she adds.

Lucas sighs in exasperation. “Why does everyone keep fucking saying that?”

“Lucas!” A voice suddenly yells from the front of the room. It’s Eliott, sitting on one of the couches placed before the screen. “I saved you a seat!” He pats the space next to him enthusiastically with a grin that shines so bright the sun would be envious.

Chloe laughs lightly, patting his arm before releasing him. “That might be why. Have fun.” She moves into the room and towards a couch a little further back, currently unoccupied. 

Lucas nods at Eliott and makes his way over, scanning the room to see who is already present and accounted for. Daphne and Basile have joined Arthur on a couch. Yann has sprawled himself on the couch behind Eliott. Emma and Alex are making out on a couch in the back because of course they are – Lucas doubts they’ll last even half the movie before they bail. Lucille comes up behind him as he’s scoping out the room.

“Hey.” She places a hand on Lucas’s shoulder in greeting and he stops his progress across the room to greet her.

“Hey!” He leans forward to kiss her on the cheeks.

“So we’re in agreement that anyone who complains about this movie is immediately kicked out and forever banished from movie nights in the future?” She winks.

Lucas knew there was a reason he liked her. “Absolutely. They must learn you _never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line_. You want to sit up near us?” He raises his voice slightly to be overheard. “I’ll get Yann to move his fat ass for you.”

“Hey!” Yann shouts from his reclined position. He’s not even going to be able to see the movie that way the dumbass. “It’s voluptuous not fat! And you’ve only ever been appreciative of that fact.”

Lucas laughs. “You’re right, bro, it’s true,” he calls back. “Your ass is a thing of beauty!”

Yann nods satisfied while Lucille laughs.

“No, it’s ok,” she smiles. “I’ll find a spot.” She pats Lucas’s arm and moves into the room, choosing to sit with Chloe.

Lucas makes his way toward the couch with Eliott, plopping himself down on it with a grin. “Ready for the cinematic experience of your life, Princeling?” Only… Eliott looks disgruntled. “What?” Lucas asks confused.

“Did you not want to sit with me?”

“What?” Lucas repeats. “What are you talking about?”

“With Lucille,” Eliott looks down, pulling at the ring on his finger. “Were you looking for a different place to sit? You don’t have to sit with me if you don’t want.”

“Eliott, what the fuck are you on? I was just finding Lucille a spot. I’m happy to sit here.” Where is this even coming from? Lucas doesn’t understand the dramatics.

Thankfully Eliott’s face immediately brightens. “Ok.”

“Ok,” Lucas agrees warily. He turns back to Yann. “Yann, where’d you put the stuff?” Yann motions to the side of the room where Lucas can indeed see the container filled with snacks and most importantly, the DVD. He hops up and makes his way over, calling out to the rest of the room. “Come get snacks and drinks if you want them. I’m not serving any of your asses. And Yann made caramel popcorn.” At that, everyone in the room seems to leap up to stake a claim on the sweets before they’re gone. Lucas grabs the DVD and comes back to the couch where Eliott has remained sitting. He sinks down on the cushions next to him, smacking Eliott on the thigh with the packet holding the film.

“Here. Technology is not my thing. You can do the honours of setting it up.”

“Oh no, we don’t need it,” Eliott shakes his head smiling as though Lucas has just said the silliest thing in the world. “We have a streaming service. I just ordered it. We don’t need a DVD, grandpa.”

“Oh,” Lucas forces himself to laugh a little. “Ok cool.” It’s far more convenient to just stream the film. No need to fiddle about with DVD players or DVD’s that are probably scratched and over ten years old. Lucas slides a hand across the well-worn cover, the picture on it faded and cracked. He remembers being curled with his mother looking at it every night of that month as if it were the first time. Her words, “ _Love overcomes everything baby. Even death.”_ He remembers being both comforted and scared by that thought – by the way she’d said it, serious and sad. It’s silly to hold onto the DVD like the physical object itself holds any importance. Like it’s her.

“It looks cool,” Eliott whispers leaning against his side and look down at the DVD as well now.

“Yeah,” Lucas glances at him with a smile. “You’ll like it.” He reaches to put the DVD gently on the table next to their couch. “Well is everybody here? Let’s get to it!”

Eliott looks up and past Lucas towards the door to the theatre room and suddenly grins. “Looks like.”

Lucas turns to see what he’s smiling about. It’s Manon and Idriss who have just arrived and have chosen a couch in the second row. Manon’s brought a blanket and she settles it over herself and Idriss, curling into his side. Idriss is holding himself stiffly and doesn’t seem to know where to put his hands.

Lucas swings back to assess Eliott’s reaction. Eliott meets his eyes, nothing but amused and Lucas exhales in relief. He _knew_ there was no way someone like Idriss – the least deceptive person out there – could have managed to hide his feelings from his best friend, and brother of the object of Idriss’s affection for that matter.

“He’s definitely the lamest out of all of us.” Eliott states it like a fact but a slight lilt to his voice gives him away. Lucas can see it for what it is. A big ol’ fishing line thrown, hoping to catch a compliment. In this particular case, Lucas is happy to oblige. Because Eliott isn’t wrong. Idriss is a mess worthy of a great deal of mocking when it comes to Manon.

“Pistachio ice cream lovers. They deserve one another,” Lucas says with a wink.

“We starting this movie or what?” A voice yells from the back. Lucas is pretty sure it’s Arthur.

Lucas would have told him to fucking wait but Eliott’s too nice for that, jumping quickly to grab the controller for the entertainment system he calls back, “Sorry! Sorry!” and then the lights to the room are dimming to near complete darkness and the screen is lighting up.

“Shit, Princeling,” Lucas expels with an impressed exhale. “You know how to do it up right.” He sinks down into the cushions.

“Yeah?” Eliott smiles happily, ensuring the movie has begun playing before he too settles into the couch, shifting until their shoulders are pressed together and turning his head towards Lucas.

Lucas nudges Eliott’s shoulder slightly with his own. “Watch the movie.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Eliott eventually turn to face the movie screen and relaxes back with a sigh.

It’s of course only about three minutes into the film that Eliott realizes. With a surprised inhale he turns and whispers, “You called me Buttercup after the Princess?” He makes a little sound of amusement. “How original.”

“Ssshhh. Watch the movie,” Lucas hushes him.

“Ok but does that mean I get to call you farm boy?” 

Lucas grabs Eliott’s thigh in response, digging his fingernails in slightly and squeezing. Eliott stills beneath the touch so Lucas keeps his hand there.

“Well that went from zero to one hundred really quickly,” Eliott whispers as Buttercup and Wesley kiss within the first few minutes of the film. Lucas squeezes his thigh just a little in warning.

 _Is this a kissing book_? The grandson asks on screen.

“Lucas,” Eliott whispers barely muffling a laugh, “is this a kissing movie?”

“I swear to god.” Lucas turns to look at him and he has plans to tell him off, to say something snarky and clever. Only when he turns, their faces are a breath from one another, far closer than Lucas had realized they would be. Eliott’s eyes drop to his mouth. Lucas looks away quickly, concentrating back on the movie.

 _This is true love. You think this happens every day?_ Wesley asks on screen.

Eliott stays quiet for a time, seemingly paying attention to the film now.

Lucas squeezes his thigh excitedly when Inigo, Fezzik, and Vizzini appear on screen. “They’re the best! Pay attention!”

“I am paying attention!” Eliott laughs quietly.

 _No more rhymes now I mean it!_ Vizzini complains. _Anyone want a peanut?_ Fezzik rhymes.

Eliott giggles and the sound spreads through Lucas in a rush of warmth. That line always made him laugh as a boy. It’s different watching with Eliott. It’s like seeing the movie for the first time through another’s eyes. Lucas wonders if this is what it was like for his mother. If this is why she watched it with him over and over again. For that rush of warmth. That feeling of satisfaction when you introduce the person you – when you introduce a person to something you love like this. And when they get it too.

The princess jumps into the water and the sounds of the shrieking eels surround her. Lucas compulsively tightens his grip on Eliott and he feels Eliott tense. He knows the feeling. He always hated this part. It’s funny that despite modern movies with special effects far superior to this, something about the idea of being in an ocean surrounded by threatening creatures you can’t see still gets to Lucas unlike anything else. He rubs Eliott’s thigh consolingly.

They both watch raptly as the Princess is pulled from the water and the voyage continues. “ _Cliffs of Insanity_ ,” Lucas snickers and turns his head a little to catch Eliott’s expression and see if he’s just as amused. Eliott’s face glows from the light of the screen and his eyes are centered forward, his jaw locked. He looks into it. _Good,_ Lucas thinks satisfied.

Lucas scoffs in irritation as Vizzini berates his compatriots on screen. It’s been a while since he’s watched this. Over a year now. Since his mother’s last episode. He hadn’t been able to watch it since. He’s forgotten details. Forgotten how much he hates the way Vizzini speaks to Fezzik and Inigo – his hired hands.

Lucas buzzes with excitement as Inigo begins speaking and his infamous line draws closer. He doesn’t realize he’s squeezing Eliott’s leg again until suddenly Eliott’s hand comes down on his own and he’s pushing Lucas’s off. Lucas looks over at him confusedly but Eliott is shuffling further away, to the end of the couch. He looks to Lucas and with a little shrug, whispers, “More comfy.”

_My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die!_

Oh dammit. He didn’t even get to make sure Eliott was paying attention to the famous line. And Lucas thought they were both perfectly comfy thank you very much. He sighs irritated and pushes himself back to the opposite end of the couch, laying back with his head cushioned on the arm rest, and swinging his legs up, placing them directly into Eliott’s lap. Eliott jumps in surprise at the intrusion and looks at Lucas in exasperation but he doesn’t shove them off. Satisfied he’s made his point – no don’t ask him what that point is, he’ll figure that out later – Lucas turns his attention back to the movie.

It ends up being almost more convenient this way. Now he can poke at Eliott’s thighs with his toes whenever he wants Eliott to take note of an important moment coming up… or whenever Lucas is excited about an upcoming scene and doesn’t even realize he’s doing it but that’s neither here nor there…

He pokes him before the sword fight and Eliott makes an attempt to pry Lucas’s foot from his inner thigh, he pokes him when Fezzik reappears, he pokes him especially excitedly when The Dread Pirate Roberts comes face-to-face with Vizzini, and that’s when everything changes. He presses the ball of his foot into Eliott’s inner thigh, prodding with his toes. Eliott’s hand returns to his foot and grips, trying to lift Lucas up and away. And Lucas is not having it. It’s one thing to distance himself and prevent Lucas from being able to directly communicate his excitement, it’s a whole different thing to stop him from sharing entirely. Fuck that.

He turns his head away from the screen towards Eliott with a frown, pulling away from Eliott’s hand and pushing further into his thigh. Eliott refuses to look at him, his jaw tense and eyes focused on the screen, but his hand continues to try to pry Lucas’s foot away. What the fuck is his problem?! Lucas huffs irritated. He lets up for a moment, relaxing his leg and foot until Eliott, believing he’s given up, loosens his hold and more gently attempts to move Lucas. Lucas lashes out, jerking his foot out of Eliott’s hold and kicking towards his lap. If he’s honest he’s sort of looking to kick him right in the dick. It’s what he deserves. Only Eliott reacts quickly, grabbing at Lucas’s foot and they struggle together and, in the tussle, suddenly Lucas’s foot is pressed up against Eliott.

Right up against _Eliott_. Hard. _Eliott’s hard_.

Static fills Lucas’s head. Eliott freezes as Lucas makes contact, the ball of Lucas’s foot pressed up against the hard length of him stretching the front of his pants. Lucas mouth parts as he stares until Eliott slowly turns his head to meet Lucas’s eyes, biting his lip, face flushed in the glow of the movie screen and looking torn between accepting the humiliation of the moment and just really, really wanting to give himself over to the feeling. Lucas moves his foot, just a little, rubbing up and into him. Eliott’s eyes flutter and his mouth drops open, his chest expanding with quickened breaths. He keeps his eyes on Lucas, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Lucas moves his foot again, pressing with a little more purpose now, rubbing rhythmically against Eliott, maybe a little harder, a little rougher than he should, somehow knowing that’s how Eliott wants it. And it’s getting to Eliott. Lucas can tell. In the way Eliott’s breath stutters and he struggles not to let his eyes close, to keep his gaze on Lucas, the way little sounds begin falling from his lips despite his efforts to stifle them. But it’s Lucas’s fucking foot and Eliott’s hard and it’s just… it’s not enough.

Lucas pulls both feet out of Eliott’s lap and back towards himself. Eliott’s hand instinctually moves to stop him before he seems to realize what’s he’s doing and he jerks it back towards himself, looking embarrassed and ashamed. Lucas can’t have that. He sits up quickly and crawls across the couch to press himself to Eliott’s side. They’re both sunk deeply into the plush cushions and with no one else in the front of the theatre and afforded the darkness of the room, Lucas feels confident no one will see them. Eliott sucks in a sharp breath as Lucas’s chest comes into contact with the side of his arm and he stares at Lucas with huge, unblinking eyes. Lucas doesn’t falter. He reaches out, cupping a hand around where he can see Eliott stretching the front of his slacks. Eliott shudders at the contact. _God._ He’s so hard, thick and solid against Lucas’s hand, as though he’s been that way for some time, and he radiates heat even through the fabric. Lucas’s eyes drop to his own fingers as they trace the shape of Eliott’s cock, trailing beneath his balls, then up, along the length of him, barely touching, gentle and teasing.

“Lucas,” Eliott exhales, more an expulsion of sound than an actual whisper. He’s begun shaking, his whole body trembling and one hand has found Lucas’s bicep, clutching desperately. Lucas brings his thumb and forefinger up until he can feel out the head of Eliott’s erection. He squeezes deliberately. Eliott’s hips stutter up into the feeling and he makes a sharp sound he can’t seem to control.

“Ssshhh,” Lucas gently hushes him, thankful for the noise coming from the screen in front of them. It’s a din of sound now, no particular voices or recognizable sounds he can distinguish. He looks back up to Eliott’s face. Eliott has his eyes shut now, his head still turned towards Lucas and he’s biting his lip, obviously in a desperate attempt to muffle any future sounds. Lucas squeezes again, pulsing his fingers around the head, imagining the way Eliott is likely leaking precome beneath the layers of stifling material. He wishes he could see it for himself. He watches Eliott’s face carefully instead. “Do you want me to stop?”

Eliott’s eyes snap open at the question. His eyes are glassy and dazed and it takes him a moment until he understands the question. He shakes his head in answer and moves his hips up a little, working himself into Lucas’s hand. Lucas responds by wrapping his fingers around the length of Eliott’s erection as best as he can manage with the fabric impeding him. Gripping him firmly he moves his hand, fondling Eliott’s balls before pressing it up, Eliott’s cock hot against the palm of his hand. Eliott’s eyebrows bunch together, his expression reading almost pained though Lucas knows it’s anything but. He abruptly moves, turning his body slightly to angle himself closer and dropping his head until it rests on Lucas’s shoulder, allowing him to hide his face in Lucas’s neck. He makes a short desperate sound, hips twitching slightly to push into Lucas’s hand. It’s so fucking hot. Seeing Eliott so worked up, barely in control of himself. Eliott’s fingernails bite into Lucas’s bicep and his other hand comes to grip the forearm attached to the hand working him over. He pushes his face more deeply into Lucas’s neck, his mouth pressed to the delicate skin. It seems to be done in a bid to quiet himself, but the feel of it burns through Lucas and he’s suddenly keenly aware of just how hard he’s become as well, just how desperate his own breath, coming in harsh pants as he moves his hand against Eliott. 

Eliott whimpers then, his mouth opening a little against Lucas’s neck as he releases the sound. His hips are moving rhythmically now, humping helplessly up into Lucas’s hand. He must be close. The thought leaves Lucas lightheaded. It’s a rush unlike anything he’s ever experienced. He drives his hand harder against Eliott, grinding the heel of it into the shaft as he squeezes fingers once more around the head. He’s giving Eliott this. Eliott is experiencing this – releasing pleasure evoking sounds he can’t even control – because of Lucas. His breath is hot and fast against Lucas’s neck. His hips have increased in pace, pumping frantically beneath Lucas’s hand. He’s going to come.

“Yeah. That’s it,” Lucas encourages, voice raspy and so obviously turned on. He tilts his head a little to press his lips up against Eliott’s ear where his head rests on Lucas’s shoulder. “That’s it. _God_. Come on.”

The lights come on. There’s a voice speaking loudly over the sound of the film. Lucas reacts immediately, pulling back and away. Scooting until he’s pressed to the opposite end of the couch once more. He pulls his legs up and towards himself to hide his own sorry state. Eliott’s reaction is more delayed. His eyes open and initially he just looks confused that Lucas is no longer touching him. His breath is still coming in harsh pants and he blinks a few times slowly looking towards Lucas with a furrowed brow, before finally realizing the lights have come on. His already flushed face deepens to an even more alarming red, the blush extending down his neck and chest. A hand goes immediately to where he strains hard against his pants and he looks around himself panicked. Lucas reaches for the pillow tucked beneath his own back and quickly tosses it to him. Eliott latches on to it gratefully, pressing it down into his lap and one hand comes up to run through his hair, before he turns slightly and looks towards the door and their apparent interruption.

Sounds and movement around them begin to filter back into Lucas’s consciousness and he now wonders too – who the hell did interrupt them? He turns his own body to see what’s going on and is met with a sight equivalent to a dark an ominous cloud while out for a picnic, no umbrella or shelter in sight. Charles. Well there’s an erection-killer if Lucas ever saw one. He can feel his dick deflate at the sight.

“What a cozy little scene,” Charles jeers where he stands next to the couch holding Manon and Idriss. They too have managed to separate themselves, sitting a reasonable distance apart on the couch. Lucas can only hope they were able to do so in time. Idriss looks sick with worry, sitting motionless and not looking up at Charles. Manon on the other hand responds to the unwelcome intrusion with a sort of calm, regality. Lucas can’t help but be impressed with her poise. Then again Lucas doubts she was in the middle of getting _Idriss_ off.

The sound of the film cuts off and Lucas looks back to see that Eliott has paused it. He meets Lucas’s eyes only briefly, quickly looking away and back towards the conversation taking place behind them. The room is eerily silent. A quick glance around tells Lucas there are less people in the room than when they started. Emma and Alex have unsurprisingly bailed. But Lucille, Chloe, and Arthur too all seem to be gone. Lucas suddenly wishes he could do the same. Disappear into the evening and not have to deal with whatever is about to happen.

Lucas tunes the conversation back in just as Manon is explaining they’d arranged a movie night.

“And no one invited me?” Charles cries with exaggerated offense. “Well I should say that’s quite insulting.”

“It was a last-minute plan, Charles,” Eliott speaks. Surprised, Lucas’s head swings back to look at him. “Just an opportunity for everyone to relax after work.”

“Yes. I can see that.” Charles looks around the room with disgust. “Really Eliott, I’m shocked your mother would approve of such a thing – fraternizing with the help like this. It sends the wrong message.”

“What message is that?” _Fuck_. Lucas’s brain and mouth really need to have a discussion about when it’s appropriate to speak and when to keep one’s thoughts solely to one’s fucking self. He can feel Eliott tense beside him – even separated by the length of the couch.

“Well, if it isn’t the car mechanic. But not covered in grease this time. Shocking.”

“Grease is saved only for special occasions.” _Oh sure, make it worse Lucas._ Well done.

“You see this is what I mean, Eliott,” Charles tuts. “You let them get comfortable around you and they forget their place.”

“Charles,” Manon speaks from beside him, her tone gentle but reprimanding.

“My place?” Lucas’s vision blackens at the sides, narrowing until only Charles is in focus.

“Lucas, be quiet.” The voice is calm and cold. It’s a command.

Lucas’s head swings to Eliott, jaw dropping in shock. _Is he fucking serious?!_ Only… perhaps it’s a command born from fear. Lucas remembers Eliott saying he was only trying to protect Lucas in their last interaction with Charles. Is this what he’s doing again?

“Join us then, Charles,” Eliott adds with an affable smile. He stands from the couch, pillow nowhere in sight. Clearly Charles’s presence has had the same effect on Eliott’s dick as it had on Lucas’s. “It’s your last night with us after all. I apologize for not including you. Lucas will move. You can join me here.” Ok if Eliott’s plan is to get Lucas away from Charles, Lucas supposes he can understand it. He just wishes it didn’t feel like this. Like he’s worthless. He feels his friends’ eyes on him and with them comes the sting of humiliation. He drops his own gaze to his hands in his lap.

“Oh yes,” Charles scoffs, “spending an evening with the hired help, that’s all I want to do with my evening.”

 _Then what the fuck are you doing here?!_ It’s what Lucas wants to yell. His brain thankfully wins this time and his mouth stays shut. He squeezes his hands tightly in fists.

“What are you watching anyways?” Charles reaches for the DVD sitting on the table next to their couch before Lucas even realizes it has caught his eye. Lucas lunges for it just a moment too late. It’s in Charles hands and he laughs, holding it up to read as Lucas leaps up from the couch.

“The Princess Bride.” Charles’s voice drips with disdain.

Lucas moves forward once more to take it back, but Charles predicts it and holds the DVD above his head. It’s like being seven years old all over again, being teased by the bigger boys in the school yard for being “girly”, his book bag held over the tallest boys head as Lucas had jumped trying to take it back and the other boys had laughed. He refuses to jump now.

“What an interesting choice,” Charles continues smirking down at Lucas. “Was _Johnny’s First Day at School_ not available?”

Lucas wants to punch him right in the gut. He’s in the perfect position to do so. He refrains. For now. As good as it would feel in the moment, Lucas would prefer that he not spend the rest of his life behind bars or beheaded or whatever Charles would deem an appropriate punishment.

“Charles,” Eliott tries once more, “come and have a seat. We’ll watch something else.”

The suggestion prickles beneath Lucas’s skin. But then, he’s NOT sharing this movie with _Charles_. Eliott’s suggestion is for the best.

“Oh?” Charles directs his oily smile towards Eliott. “You’d give up _The Princess Bride_ for _me_?” He exaggerates the question as though swooning at the thought.

Eliott laughs a little and the sound hammers into Lucas like a million nails being driven into the very core of his bones. “It’s a silly kid’s movie. It’s fine. I don’t care.”

The static in Lucas’s head comes back in a rush. The noise of the room seems to fade away along with his anger. He’s not sure what to call the feeling that replaces it. It’s something hollow yet painful, as though the nails driven into his bones formed holes from which all feeling now drains, leaving behind only empty shells, sharp and fragile.

When he comes back to himself, Charles is laughing and Lucas can’t be sure of how long he’s been doing so or what further insults have been hurled his way. Has it only been a split second or has Lucas been the subject of his mocking for longer? He can feel the eyes of the room resting on him and with them comes shame, smothering in its intensity.

“It’s my film actually.” Lucas looks to the voice. It’s Yann. He’s standing and stepping towards them. There’s a pleasant smile on his face but Lucas can read the threat there. He’s angry. “It’s a film I used to watch with my mother. Means a great deal to me actually.”

“And you are?” Charles asks turning towards Yann, his eyes trailing over him in appraisal.

“Yann is the Palace’s Head Chef,” Eliott answers.

Charles immediately drops his defensive stance, his smile transforming into something that one could confuse for agreeable had they never met him. “Ah. A respectable professional. Pleasure,” Charles smiles.

Yann nods with a curt, “Your Royal Highness”, his expression flat and eyes cold.

“Well,” Charles adds, “I certainly won’t mock the sacredness of family tradition.” He hands the DVD to Yann. “We’ll watch the children’s movie if you like.”

“Thank you but I’m actually finding I’m more tired than I realized,” Yann replies, eyes briefly landing on Lucas. “I think I’m going to head home, so feel free to watch whatever you like. Please enjoy your evening.” He looks at Lucas. “Lucas?”

Lucas nods and moves to join him.

“You’re not staying?” He hears Eliott ask softly from behind him. He refuses to turn around, ignoring the question as though he hadn’t heard it as they make their way towards the door.

“I’ll join you,” Idriss calls, leaping up from the couch and jogging to catch them at the door.

Lucas barely breathes until they’ve left the theatre room and shut the door behind them. He exhales heavily the moment it clicks shut.

“Not here,” Idriss states seriously, motioning for Yann and Lucas to follow and leading the way back through the halls.

Lucas keeps his eyes on the floor in front of him as they walk, allowing static to occupy his head once more and drown out any other thoughts, to fill the void that’s been left. No one speaks until they’re safely back in the kitchen.

“Fucking prick,” Idriss spits angrily the second the door into the kitchen swings shut. “I swear to god if it weren’t for the fact that he’ll be gone tomorrow I don’t know that I could keep myself from popping him one.”

Yann hums in agreement. He stops Lucas with hands to his shoulders, turning him until they’re facing one another. “You ok?”

Lucas nods, meeting his eyes briefly before shifting his own away. He can’t imagine what Yann is thinking. What his other friends are thinking. How pathetic Lucas must seem. He clears his throat before speaking. “I’m fine. Just want to get out of here.”

“Sure,” Yann agrees, releasing him and moving to grab their jackets.

“Hey,” Idriss says coming to stand in front of Lucas. “The way Eliott acts around Charles – don’t take it personal, yeah? It’s complicated and he –”

“Idriss,” Lucas cuts him off, meeting his eyes and with a sharp cut of his head to the side communicating exactly how much he doesn’t need to hear anyone make excuses for Eliott right now.

Idriss nods. “Yeah. Ok.” He brings a hand to Lucas’s shoulder, squeezing in comfort. “I’ll see you Monday? We’ll train after work, yeah? I’ll even give you the gloves first and you can try to take out all this pent-up rage on me, deal?”

Lucas smiles, a little shaky but real. “Deal.” He turns and walks towards Yann waiting by the door, turning back quickly to add, “And there won’t be any ‘try’ about it.”

Idriss grins. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

* * * *

“Thank you,” Lucas says into the silence of the car, turning the DVD in his hands.

“Of course,” Yann replies. “I wish you could have just punched him in the face though. I would have much preferred that.”

“Me too,” Lucas agrees quietly.

“We’ll go home and order some food, yeah?” Yann asks. “Forget the whole fucking thing and just gorge ourselves on unhealthy shit.”

“Actually Yann,” Lucas speaks tentatively. “Could you drop me off at my mum's?”

“Oh,” Yann glances at him quickly in surprise before focusing back on the road ahead of them. “That’s what you want? I mean, sure. Yeah. Of course I will.”

“Yeah,” Lucas turns to look out the window, the world outside blurred as they pass. “It’s what I want.”

Visiting hours for the day have of course long passed. But the nurses have always had a soft spot for Lucas, and they’ve bent the rules for him on more than one occasion. He slips by the front desk with a finger to his lips and wink to his favourite nurse, Rose, and is met with an eye roll and waved hand in acquiesce.

When he enters his mom’s room, she’s already asleep. He watches her for a moment. She glows an eerie yellow from the streetlights streaming through her window, and she’s so still and silent Lucas on impulse feels the need to touch her, to assure himself she’s still there with him, still warm and alive and breathing. He touches her gently on the arm she holds outside the blanket, curled in front of herself. She’s warm, her soft skin a familiar comfort as he runs his hand across it.

She shifts a little in her sleep and then her eyes are blinking open. He’d feel guilty for waking her only… he needs her present, looking at him, wanting him there with her.

“Baby,” she whispers with a smile. It’s soft and soothing, like balm to a burn. He really doesn’t expect the feeling to overwhelm him the way it immediately does. Tears spring to his eyes and he busies himself with taking off his jacket and shoes, turning away from her to leave them on the chair next to the bed and breathing shakily in an attempt to calm himself. She’ll know anyways. He knows she’ll read him immediately. But he wants to maintain pretenses for even just a minute longer.

She scoots back on the bed as he crawls into it with her and it’s moments like these, he’s glad he never grew as big or tall as his childhood brain, vulnerable and bullied, had wished for. She’s able to wrap her arms around him and pull him to her chest in a way that makes him feel like he’s thirteen again, when things had gotten really bad and they’d both needed the comfort of one another more than ever before.

“My beautiful boy. My angel.” Her hand strokes up and down his back as she says it, kissing the top of his head where he’s pressed it to her chest.

“I don’t understand anything, mum,” he whispers, his voice thready and weak. “I’m so confused.”

“That’s ok, my love. You don’t need to.”

“Is it always like this?” He swallows around the lump in his throat. “Does it always have to hurt?”

“Love is many things, none of them logical.”

He recognizes the words. It used to entertain him. Seeing if he could catch when she made such references. Like their own special game. Their inside joke. Their film. Their thing. Tonight, the words cover him like a rash, itchy and irritating. They make him want to escape his own skin.

He sighs heavily, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around her back, pressing into her more strongly, soaking in her warmth. He’s so cold. Hollow. Empty. As he’s always been. He used to be able to count on a visit with him mom to fill him again, to breathe life back into him in his darkest moments. Even when he’d lost her for a time. When she’d been taken from him, and him from her, the thought of her alive and warm _somewhere_ in the world, had been more of a comfort to him than anything else in his life. He’d curl into Alexia those nights. She was always beyond patient and understanding, letting Lucas crawl into bed with her as he sought comfort. And he’d imagine the arms wrapping around him, as small and frail as they were, were his mothers, warm and real and _there_ … with him.

It doesn’t work tonight. He lays empty and cold. The heat he absorbs from his mom leaks out just as quickly, draining through holes hammered in bone.

“It only hurts when we let it.” She speaks again, voice gentle but words cold. “We must build defences, baby. Protect ourselves first.” 

It reminds him of a song by Pink Floyd. “ _Mother, should I build a wall_?” He sings softly in reply.

She begins humming the melody. Singing only when she gets to the lyric, “ _Of course. Mama’s gonna help build the wall_.” She’s always understood.

* * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Instagram post of Idriss in the gym is done by the best, most talented brat I know: Julie aka @ariavds on tumblr. I love you muchly. Thank you. <333
> 
> So anyways about this ending... imma just head out... 
> 
> To yell at me on tumblr: surrealsunday


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting this up earlier because enough of you yelled at me and I felt bad (Narrator: This was a lie ;))))
> 
> Chapter heading graphic courtesy of Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr)! <3333

He manages to avoid Eliott until Thursday. Or Eliott avoids him. Lucas can’t be sure which statement is more accurate. He’s done what he can to disrupt a daily routine that would normally include Eliott, but then… he’s still easy to find, spending the majority of his day in the garage and at no point has Eliott sought him out. So more than likely it is a situation of mutual avoidance. He’s made a point of having lunch each day in the kitchen and thankfully no one has questioned his sudden appearance. Chloe and Daphne join him some days. There’s a lightness to the Palace now that Charles is gone. Or more specifically, a lightness he notices in Chloe and Daphne. And it makes him sick to think how uncomfortable they were made to feel while just trying to do their jobs. It makes him regret not punching Charles in the face when he had the chance – potential life-long imprisonment or not.

He trains each day after work with Idriss, who, much to Lucas’s irritation, has managed to stay close-lipped about the state of things between him and Manon. “There’s nothing. As always.” That’s all Idriss had said. And while prying information out of Idriss through whatever discomfiting methods Lucas could think up, would normally delight him, it wasn’t a week he felt particularly up to the task. In fact, it wasn’t just Idriss who had been unusually silent and tight-lipped, Lucas too hadn’t felt much like talking. Their training sessions had been far more quiet than usual, but just as physically exhausting, if not even more so. It’s as though they were both channeling everything they refused to say into every punch, every kick, every block. It was what they both needed.

And the tension Lucas carried through his shoulders, bunching into tightened knots every time he rounded a corner, every time he heard a voice behind him, every time someone said his name, had begun to loosen as each day passed and he didn’t run into Eliott. So naturally that’s when he does. Or well… _he_ doesn’t run into Eliott. Eliott comes to him.

They’re all sitting around the back booth table in the kitchen at end of shift. He’s managed to convince Bas, Daphne, and Arthur to come with him straight from work to the bar. Chloe had declined with a secretive smile Lucas is fairly certain means she has her own fun plans for the evening. Idriss had agreed to join them as well, after none-too-subtly ensuring it was “just them, right?” Which Lucas understood to mean ‘Manon better not be coming because I can’t deal with my emotions right now’. Lucas certainly wasn’t one to judge and had assured Idriss he hadn’t invited anyone else. And Yann is just on the cusp of agreeing. Lucas can tell and is trying to bribe him with the promise of a free drink.

The kitchen is a bustle around them, finishing dinner service, and with his back facing the kitchen, turned in the bench towards Yann, Lucas is entirely unaware of Eliott approaching. It’s the way Yann’s eyes move to something beyond his shoulder, before they skitter back to Lucas, uncomfortable and concerned, that is the dead giveaway.

“Hi.”

Tension returns to every muscle in Lucas’s body and he can feel his heart beating in his ears. The table at large mumble greetings. Lucas refuses to look up, turning only slightly towards the table so as to keep Eliott within his peripheral vision.

“Lucas, could I talk to you for a few minutes?” Eliott’s voice is tentative and quiet. The entire table’s silence means everyone has heard the question but it’s clear Eliott only intends to be heard by him.

“Go head.” He doesn’t move, doesn’t look up from the table, flicking at a fingernail disinterestedly.

“Um…” Eliott clears his throat uncomfortably and Lucas can see others at the table shifting, obviously aware of how awkward the moment has become. “Ok.” He inhales as though readying himself and Lucas can hear how shaky it is. “I’m sorry about the other day. The movie and Charles. I’m sorry for the way he spoke to you.”

“Getting a weird sense of déjà vu,” Lucas snipes, cutting his eyes to Eliott for a split second.

“I know,” Eliott agrees. “I could explain better why Manon and I have to curry favour with him if you’d let me.”

“No one is stopping you. Have at it. Share with the class.” Lucas motions to the rest of the table.

“Lucas,” he exhales, sounding slightly irritated now, “you can’t understand the pressure I’m under. I’m not callous on purpose–”

“No, it’s a natural talent I’m sure. Comes with the title.” He can’t stop himself from looking up to meet Eliott’s eyes then, saying the words as spitefully as possible.

“I’m not solely responsible for how poorly things went, you know. You were baiting him! He’s the Crown Prince of England! What was I to do?” _Is he serious?!_

“Treat me – all your friends like shit obviously! Excellent decision.”

“I didn’t treat anyone like… that. I only appeased him and tried to calm the situation. You were the one inciting him!” Eliott’s jaw protrudes with his anger, his nostrils flaring slightly. Lucas hasn’t ever seen him angry before.

But he’s not the only one who’s pissed, and Lucas is sick of staring up at him. He jumps up from the bench advancing into Eliott’s space, tipping his chin back and spitting the words at him. “You were allowing him to speak to people who work for you like dirt beneath his shoe. Like we’re worthless.”

“I was not _allowing_ anything. What would you have had me do? Tell him off in front of everyone? Embarrass him in front of people who are supposed to be–” He catches himself before finishing the thought.

“What?” Lucas taunts. “No, say it. _Serving_ him? Waiting on him hand and foot? Sucking his dick whenever he demands it?”

“What are you even talking about?!” Eliott raises his voice exasperated. “And that’s not what I meant. I only meant he would see it that way. It would be a mistake I couldn’t repair.”

“So? No great loss. He’s an abusive fucking asshole.” _Good fucking riddance_ as far as Lucas is concerned.

“He is a member of the Royal family!” Eliott shouts, hands gesticulating in front of him for emphasis.

Lucas is so fucking sick of this classicist bullshit.

“So, he’s my better? He’s all of our better? I guess none of us know our place, do we?”

Eliott looks appalled by the suggestion. “I have never said that!” He’s no longer shouting but he speaks with ferocity. “I don’t think of you that way!”

“How generous of you,” Lucas scoffs. “Cavorting with the help, making us feel special, teasing us as equals – but careful, not too far, remember your place!”

“That’s not fair!”

“Who says life is fair? Where is that written?” Lucas mocks. “Oh sorry,” he raises his hands in a false apology, “another reference you won’t understand ‘cause you _spit_ on the movie it came from!”

“What?” Eliott asks flabbergasted.

“You guys! Enough!” Idriss interrupts them loudly. And when Lucas turns his head to look at him, chest rising and falling with his enraged breath, it’s only then he realizes it’s more than the table who have gone silent. It seems they’ve attracted the attention of the kitchen at large. Lucas swings his head around to observe the rest of the space. The staff have begun busying themselves to appear as if they weren’t avidly listening to every word of Eliott and Lucas’s argument but the fact that they were is clear. Emma is the only one making her interest in the proceedings clear. She’s sitting on a stool at the central island, snapping a carrot into her mouth, both eyebrows raised, watching them as though they’re performing just for her. Fucking Emma. She’s the only person more shameless than himself.

“Lucas,” Yann stands from the bench, resting a hand on Lucas’s shoulder, “let’s just go. Drinks on you, remember?”

Lucas exhales shakily and turns to him, forces a slight chuckle. “So now you’re game, hunh? And I said drink. Singular.”

“I’ll take it.” Yann smiles and Lucas can see it’s just as tense.

“Yann,” Eliott suddenly speaks and Lucas watches Yann turn to Eliott in surprise, “I wanted to apologize to you as well. I didn’t realize that movie was so important to you. I’m truly sorry. What you said about watching it with your mother and well – the way Charles was speaking–”

“It’s fine,” Yann cuts him off, not unkindly. “But thank you. Anyways,” He none-too-subtly pushes Lucas to begin walking, “we’re just headed out.”

The others begin filing out of the bench and grabbing their belongings.

“Where are you going?” Eliott directs the question at Lucas but it’s Yann who answers.

“The Florin.”

“Oh. That sounds fun,” Eliott replies quietly. Silence rests between them all, thick and heavy in the air. It’s obvious Eliott is waiting for an invitation to join them. No one extends one and Lucas sees Eliott’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. He drags his eyes away and follows Yann to the door.

“We can hang out later, alright?” Idriss says gently and Lucas glances back to see him stopped in front of Eliott, a hand cupped at the side of Eliott’s neck. “I won’t be that late.”

“I didn’t ask,” Eliott replies, sullen and obviously aggravated, crossing his arms, face tipped down and turned away from Idriss. “Stay out as late as you like. I don’t care.”

Lucas doesn’t bother listening to the rest of their conversation. Following Yann out into the night. It’s a welcome relief to feel the cool night air bite into his skin, still hot and flushed from their argument. He doesn’t understand what’s happening – what _happened_ – all he knows is he needs to forget. He needs Eliott the fuck out of his head. He needs these feelings to go the fuck away. He feels full, brimming to the edge as though being jostled only slightly will have everything spilling over. He just needs release.

* * * *

* * * *

The air of the bar is thick and hot and there’s a desperate quality to interactions. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s a Thursday. It’s not the usual weekend crowd, happy to waste the evening away until either finding someone or not come the end of the night. There’s purpose and intent to movements tonight. Or maybe it’s only Lucas who sees it that way because he feels the same.

The group doesn’t quickly disperse as usual, instead finding a table and ordering drinks as they all sink into conversation. Lucas sits back, soaking in the conversation and only responding with a nod or a word when engaged. He doesn’t feel much like talking. He doesn’t feel like much beyond finding a warm body to lose himself in. He scans the bar and discards the interested looks he’s met with one-by-one, each provoking more revulsion in him than the last. Goddammit. He won’t let Eliott do this to him. He just needs _someone_. His brain can fuck right off evoking disgust in reaction to every set of eyes that meet his own and aren’t the eyes he’s imagining, blue-green and narrowed in anger and upset. 

“Oh god fucking dammit!” Idriss suddenly exclaims slamming his beer down onto the table.

Lucas startles in his perusal of the bar to turn to look at him. Idriss is standing looking up and past Lucas’s shoulder. Lucas turns and…

“Should have fucking known,” Idriss adds with an irritated sigh and Lucas is inclined to agree.

Manon and Eliott stand, searching the space, dressed in a way Lucas supposes is meant to draw less attention to them, Manon is wearing a hat and Eliott has his hood pulled up. It's like they've both intentionally dressed down. They look ridiculous and they’re still drawing interested looks from assorted patrons around them. It’s not surprising, they’re more recognizable as a pair than they are individually. Though it could just be the stunning picture they make standing together. The beautiful Royal twins.

It’s Manon who sees Idriss as he’s fairly hard to miss, still standing but not having made any progress in deciding whether to move from the table or not. She grabs Eliott’s arm and tugs him alongside as they make their way to the table.

Lucas grabs his beer, swallowing the dregs, warm and bitter.

“What are you doing here?” Idriss asks the moment Manon and Eliott reach the table. Lucas keeps his eyes on his empty beer glass. A little spilled over in his haste to drink and he catches the leftover droplets running down the side with his thumb.

“Eliott mentioned you’d all gone out. I thought I’d come join you. Eliott offered to accompany me,” Manon answers.

It’s complete and utter bullshit. Everyone at the table knows it.

“Fine,” Idriss sighs irritated but knowing the battle was lost before it began. “I’ll get you a chair.”

“No, that’s ok.” Manon walks towards Idriss and Lucas watches with interest. She moves with total intent, not looking the least bit nervous. Unlike Idriss who Lucas would bet has instantly broken into a cold sweat at the sight of Manon advancing. She encourages him to sit with hands pressed to his shoulders and then… plunks herself right down into his lap, bringing one arm around his shoulders and reaching for his beer to take a sip looking like this is an entirely normal occurrence, as though she doesn’t have a care in the world. Idriss on the other hand… well, the look on Idriss’s face is almost enough to make Lucas laugh out loud and he’s definitely not the only one feeling that way. He catches Yann’s eyes and they share an amused look. Lucas needs to remember to congratulate Manon later on giving exactly zero fucks.

He turns away from them only to unintentionally make eye contact with Eliott as he pulls a chair up across the table from Lucas, staring intently. He looks… determined. And stubborn. Lucas has never noticed the resemblance between Eliott and his sister more. Lucas quirks an irritated eyebrow in response. _What?_ Eliott only continues to stare, gaze unwavering. Lucas breaks first, looking away out towards the bar. Only now all the faces bleed together, no distinctive features stand out, and he can’t seem to focus on anyone long enough to judge their interest.

Conversation carries on around the table. Lucas can feel Eliott’s eyes burning into the side of his face. He won’t look away and it’s pushing Lucas to the brink. He nearly jumps out of his skin at the feel of a foot connecting with the side of his own. He jerks his eyes back to Eliott on instinct and then they’re trapped there, caught in some sort of battle Lucas never meant to enter. He pushes Eliott’s foot back and away from his own, narrowing his eyes slightly as he does so. Two seconds later it’s back, pressing right up against the side of Lucas’s only this time Eliott slides it up a little, rubbing against Lucas’s ankle. Lucas is unable to help the way his mouth falls open. He snaps it shut the moment he realizes. Eliott pulls his lower lip into his mouth, his foot moving to rub against Lucas’s calf. Lucas jerks his chair back, standing quickly.

“Gonna go to the bar for a bit,” he announces to the table.

“Ohhhh already snagged someone?” Basile laughs. “Nice man. Be safe. Use a condom!”

Lucas rolls his eyes in annoyance, turning and walking quickly to the bar. He signals the bartender, but the man is busy at the other end of the bar. Lucas taps his fingers against the counter impatiently. He had no intention of drinking anything harder than a beer or two tonight – it is a Thursday after all and they all have to work tomorrow – but the need for hard liquor is something he can’t currently deny.

He feels a presence at his shoulder and tenses. “Fuck off, Eliott. We’re not doing this.”

“Whoa,” a voice replies that is decidedly not Eliott. “Glad I’m not Eliott.”

Lucas turns, face breaking into a genuine, easy smile. “Leon. Hey. Sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.”

“No, I guess not.” He smirks. “Avoiding someone?”

“Mmhmm,” Lucas agrees looking Leon up and down. He looks good. His black t-shirt stretches tightly over his chest, the muscles of his arms prominent even relaxed. He tilts his head and the lights of the bar bounce off his dark skin, prominent cheekbones enhanced by the shadows falling on his face. He looks nothing like – and anyways, Lucas doubts he came over just to say hi. “Something like that.”

“Any chance you’d want to avoid him in the back office with me?” Leon asks, suggestive smile on his face.

Lucas can’t help the way his eyes dart around Leon’s shoulder, back towards the table. Eliott’s eyes are still on him, his gaze dark and piercing even across the bar. _Good_.

“The back office, hunh?” Lucas asks with a grin, eyes back on Leon. “Stepping up your game.”

Leon shrugs, laughing lightly. “I’m off shift, the Manager’s gone for the night, and it sure as hell beats the bathroom. I know who cleans it after all and let me tell you, they’re shit at their job.” Lucas laughs. “We can go back to my place after if you’re up for it. I just don’t think I can wait ‘til then.” He steps closer, hand going to Lucas’s waist and squeezing, thumb digging into Lucas’s abs. “Can you?” Lucas can feel his heart rate pick up slightly. Fuck yes. This is exactly what he needs.

“I’m down for that,” Lucas says, adding with a smirk, “or up for that I guess.”

Leon chuckles. “Show, don’t tell. Let’s go.”

Lucas can’t help but look one more time towards the table, but there are people standing in the way now, blocking the view. Probably for the best. He follows Leon through the bar towards the back hall and thinks of nothing but what’s to come. He knows Leon’s body well. His solid chest, his broad shoulders, his slender neck, his strong hands, his pale, long fingers… _fuck._ No. No, his dark fingers. His dark, thick fingers. Lucas knows exactly how thick they are. _Fuck you, brain_. They enter the short corridor, still open on one side to the bar by a half-wall before Leon turns, stepping into a small alcove with a door to the bar office. He opens the door with a key and then pauses, grinning back at Lucas. “Shall we?”

Lucas steps towards him, when a hand is suddenly on his bicep wrenching him back. Lucas swings around in shock. “What the fuck?!”

“Whoa,” Leon says in surprise, stepping forward and pushing Eliott back and away from Lucas. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leon,” Lucas puts a hand on Leon’s chest pressing him back, “it’s fine.”

“The guy you were avoiding I presume?” Leon asks eyes bouncing between Eliott and Lucas.

Lucas knows there’s no need to answer the question. It’s fairly obvious. “Give us a minute?”

Leon nods, tilting his head towards the back bar. “I’ll wait over there.”

“Thanks,” Lucas acknowledges. “It’ll just be a minute.” With one last long look at Eliott, Leon leaves.

“No,” Eliott speaks the moment Leon is out of earshot, looking at Lucas with wide and pleading eyes.

“Excuse me?” Lucas scoffs. “No?”

“No, it won’t just be a minute,” Eliott says, rushed and desperate. “Don’t go with him. Please.” He steps into Lucas’s space, grabbing his biceps on either side. He’s close, his breath a warm exhale against Lucas’s lips. Too close. Lucas shoves him back. Eliott’s hands release him and drop to his sides.

“The fuck do you get off telling me what to do?” He feels the familiar rage of their earlier argument pumping back into him, only this time it fills him to overflowing, boiling as it spills over. “You don’t have any say over who I fuck!”

“I know,” Eliott agrees and his eyes drop to Lucas’s lips, “but please don’t. I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to have sex with him.”

God he is just… the most _infuriating_. “None of this is up to you! You don’t get to want me one minute, discard me the next. I’m not here at your command. I’m not at anyone’s command.”

“I don’t though.” Eliott steps closer again but doesn’t touch, his voice a little quieter, just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the bar around them.

“Don’t what?” Lucas asks despite himself.

“Just want you one minute.” Eliott looks into his eyes and there’s a plea in his own.

“What does that mean, Eliott?” Lucas asks expelling an angry breath. “Enough fucking subtly. Say what you mean for fucking once.”

“I don’t just want you one minute. I want you all minutes. I want you all the time,” Eliott speaks clearly, loudly.

“You want me?” Lucas feels the knowledge of it move through him like a live spark, lighting up every nerve ending.

“Yes. I– yes.” Eliott swallows heavily but doesn’t look away, wearing that same stubborn and determined expression he adopted the moment he arrived in the bar.

“You want to fuck me?” Lucas challenges crudely, moving his body a little closer, letting their legs brush together only slightly.

“I –” Eliott swallows. Pupils dilating, his eyes drag from Lucas’s mouth to his neck and then back up again. “Yes.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot.” Lucas grabs him by the front of his conspicuously casual hoodie and t-shirt, somehow still looking prim and proper on Eliott. He’s never wanted to mess someone up more. Eliott is docile beneath Lucas’s hands as he slams him back against the office door. He reaches for the door handle, turning it and letting Eliott fall backwards with a push. Eliott stumbles and Lucas slams the door, locking it behind them before pushing Eliott again and again until his back connects with the office wall.

“Lucas,” Eliott gasps reaching for him, hands going to his waist. Lucas slaps them away.

“Hands to yourself.”

Eliott presses them back and against the wall behind him, tilting his hips out and towards Lucas in a way that is far too suggestive to be unpracticed. Lucas smirks, reaching for Eliott’s belt. He undoes it roughly, moving on to Eliott’s pants.

“You’re such a goddamn mess,” he speaks as he shoves Eliott’s pants and briefs down to mid-thigh, exposing him to Lucas’s gaze. He’s already half-hard.

Lucas spits in his hand and reaches for him, gripping him in a tight fist. Eliott’s eyes flutter and nearly shut, his shoulders collapsing a little as he hunches down on the wall, pushing his hips up into Lucas’s hand with a provoking little noise. Like he wants Lucas to continue speaking. He’s beautiful. Lucas hates that he’s so beautiful.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Lucas tells him as he begins stroking, feeling Eliott plump and thicken in his hand, stretch until he’s hard and solid against Lucas’s grip. “Your stupid fucking eyes,” Lucas says with a harsh tug, pressing his thumb into the tip and rubbing. Eliott gasps, his mouth dropping open as he stares at Lucas, panting harshly. His hands scrabble restlessly against the wall, seeking purchase. “Your stupid eyelashes.” Lucas concentrates on the head of Eliott’s cock, working his hand over it as he watches Eliott gasp for air, before sliding it back down to the base, pausing to massage Eliott’s balls. Eliott groans, rough and deep, his eyes squeezing closed for a moment before opening and resting back on Lucas, gaze hazy and unfocused. “ _God_.” Lucas’s slides his grip back up, collecting the precome at the tip before pumping faster, and he’s finding he’s a little out of breath himself. “Your fucking lips.” Lucas eyes fall to them and Eliott’s tongue darts out to wet them. “I hate your fucking lips.” Eliott’s eyes fall to Lucas’s lips. Lucas twists his wrist, moving his hand in a rough tug that has Eliott making a sharp sound, falling forward until his forehead knocks into Lucas’s. His hands come up to grip desperately at Lucas’s hair. Lucas lets him. They both stare down at Lucas’s hand working him over. “Even your dick is pretty,” Lucas says with an annoyed exhalation of air. “Every part of you. I fucking hate it.” Eliott’s grip tightens in his hair, pulling harshly at the strands. “Come on,” Lucas commands as Eliott’s hips begin twitching in time with his strokes, driving himself up into Lucas's hand. “Come on, Princeling.” Eliott moans loudly, moving his head back to stare at Lucas with dark, overwhelmed eyes, his hands still tight in Lucas’s hair. “Fucking come. I want to see it.” Someone suddenly pounds on the door, the handle rattling. Eliott’s eyes widen, his cock fattening and then with a gasp he’s coming, wet and warm all over Lucas’s hand. He sags forward, burying his face in Lucas’s neck and shuddering with a choked off sound as Lucas squeezes the last of it out of him.

“Lucas,” Leon calls through the door. “I won’t come in, but I can’t have non-employees in there. Finish up and get out.”

“Yeah!” Lucas yells back, reaching frantically for his own pants as Eliott raises his head to watch. Lucas doesn’t bother pulling his pants down completely, just enough to pull himself out, hard and dripping. It doesn’t take long. In fact, it’s embarrassing how little it takes. Only a few strokes, the slide eased by Eliott’s come, Eliott’s hands gentle now in his hair, stroking it back from his face as he watches. Lucas stares at his face, pumping himself desperately, watching as Eliott licks his lips staring down at Lucas's hand working over his own cock. God Lucas wants his mouth. He wants every bit of him. He wants to wreck Eliott. He wants to let Eliott wreck him. He reaches with his free hand for the back of Eliott’s neck. Pulling him forward, Lucas moves to scrape his teeth along Eliott’s jaw. Eliott gasps in response, grip tightening in Lucas’s hair. And then Lucas is coming with a deep groan. The orgasm surges through him in waves, body shaking as he pulls himself through it, aftershocks keeping him gasping against Eliott. He presses his forehead into Eliott’s shoulder as he recovers. Fuck. He hasn’t come that hard in… well, he can’t remember.

Leon bangs on the door again, more insistent this time. “Lucas!"

“Alright!” Lucas yells, releasing Eliott and stepping back. Eliott’s hands let him go, falling back to the wall behind him. It’s only then Lucas realizes what a mess he’s made of him. Lucas’s come stains the front of Eliott’s pants, where Eliott has pulled them up slightly to rest over his hips. Eliott grimaces at the sight as he tucks himself back into them.

And maybe it’s the endorphins pumping through his blood but the sight of it has Lucas snorting with a laugh.

“What?” Eliott asks looking up surprised and smiling a little at the sight of Lucas’s humour.

“I mean,” Lucas says chuckling as he tucks himself away and zips back up his pants, “I just came on the Prince of France. I don’t know about you but that’s pretty fucking funny to me.”

“Why is that funny?” Eliott asks with an amused smile. He searches the room for a moment before grabbing a box of Kleenex on the desk and attempting to rectify some of the damage done to his pants.

“I don’t know,” Lucas admits as he watches him. “It just is.”

“On a bit of a power trip are you then?” Eliott asks, finishing and tossing the used Kleenex in the nearby waste bin. He hands the Kleenex box to Lucas, who quickly pulls a few tissues out to clean his hands, grabbing the hand sanitizer on the desk while he’s at it. Not a perfect solution but it’ll have to do for now.

“Oh ya,” Lucas snorts. “My plan to undermine the monarchy always included coming all over a member of the Royal Family.”

“You didn’t come all over,” Eliott says with a smirk. “You came on my pants. If it’s about a power trip you might want to try coming on my face.”

Lucas’s jaw drops as he stares at Eliott, who looks entirely pleased to have thrown Lucas off kilter.

The door rattles again and this time opens. Lucas swings around to face it as Eliott hastily ensures his pants are done up.

“I’m sorry,” Leon says as he looks upon them both. “I did warn you. I can’t have you in here.” He looks past Lucas to Eliott, eyes running up and down him in appraisal. “Though judging by the looks of you two, you got done what you needed to.” His eyes drop to Eliott’s pants before he looks back at Lucas, amused. “You really gonna make the poor guy walk back though the bar – past all your friends – like that?”

Lucas smirks, looking back to see that Eliott’s face has flushed in mortification. He’s holding his hands awkwardly in front of his pants in a fruitless attempt to shield them. “He does look quite the sight, doesn’t he?” Lucas remarks proudly.

Leon sighs. “Take the back door. End of the hall.” Lucas nods and motions for Eliott to follow him. Leon stops him with a hand to his chest just as he goes to pass. “And Lucas? Next time you’re in here, it’s with me or not at all.” He hears Eliott suck in a sharp breath at Leon’s pronouncement.

“Next time.” Lucas winks, ignoring the way he can feel Eliott hovering at his shoulder. He turns and leads the way out of the office. He assumes Eliott is following, not turning to check until he’s pushing through the back door and into the cool night air. Eliott trips on the door jam and stumbles out after him. Lucas laughs. “Wow. One orgasm with me and he’s forgotten how to walk.”

“Please,” Eliott scoffs, smiling. “I am clumsy by birthright. You get no claim over that.”

“Ah you’re right,” Lucas agrees nodding seriously. “It’s in your blood. No one shall deny your title of clumsiest – orgasm or no.”

“Thank you,” Eliott sniffs self-importantly and it makes Lucas laugh. “Now come on, the car is parked just over here.” He motions towards the far side of the back lot.

“Nah,” Lucas waves him off, playing more casual than he feels. “I can call a car to get me here. You get yourself home, Princeling.”

“What?” Eliott turns back to him. “No, I can’t.”

Lucas sighs. Fuck this is what he was afraid of. “Listen, Eliott, I know it was intense back there and everything, and don’t get me wrong, that was a good fucking orgasm, but–”

“No, Lucas,” Eliott cuts him off with a charmed smile, not looking the least bit put-off by Lucas’s attempted rejection, “I mean I can’t because Manon drove. I can’t drive.”

“ _You can’t drive?!!!_ ” Lucas repeats stunned. 

Eliott laughs. “No. I’ve never needed to. I always have a driver.”

“ _Always have a driver._ My god, Princeling, sound more stuck-up why don’t you.”

“Well it’s true. And besides,” Eliott adds with a pout, “driving is scary.”

Lucas makes a sharp noise of objection. “Driving isn’t scary! It’s freedom! It’s the most amazing feeling in the world!”

“Better than that orgasm?” Eliott asks, biting his lip and well… _smoldering_ at Lucas. That’s what he’s doing. _Smoldering_. The dumbass.

“Ok, second best feeling in the world,” Lucas concedes with a laugh as Eliott joins in. “But you have some of the best cars ever made. All right in your garage! Have you never wanted to drive any?”

Eliott shrugs. “Not really. I don’t know. It just never seemed like a big deal to me.”

“It is a big deal. It’s a HUGE deal.” Lucas waves a hand about for emphasis. “Well I cannot let this stand. You’re driving.”

“What? No!!!” Eliott cries looking truly terrified.

“Relax,” Lucas laughs. “I’m not looking to die. I’ll get us home. You are driving the second we get through the front gate.”

Eliott still looks wary. “I could still hurt us. It doesn’t matter if it’s just a driveway if I run us into a tree.”

“Well my mom first let me drive when I was seven by plopping me right on her lap. Could always do the same for you…” Lucas wiggles an eyebrow with a suggestive smirk.

Eliott flushes a startling red and Lucas is beyond charmed that despite having their dicks out in front of one another less than five minutes ago he can still rattle Eliott just as easily.

“Anything to get me on your lap, hunh?” Eliott banters, red still staining his cheeks.

“I mean,” Lucas smirks, “I’m not so sure I need an excuse. You did admit to _wanting_ me after all.”

“Ugh,” Eliott huffs looking decidedly unimpressed. “You’re an idiot. Come on.” He turns and walks in the direction of where he said they’d parked the car. “We brought the Jag. It’s your favourite right?”

Lucas jogs to catch up. “It’s my favourite modern, actually-running-without-potentially-blowing-up vehicle, yes. Should we be worried about leaving Manon behind?”

A crease appears between Eliott’s eyebrows as he looks over at Lucas. “No, she’ll go with Idriss. What do you mean? They can’t blow-up, can they?”

“Relax,” Lucas dismisses with a wave of the hand. “I’m like ninety percent sure it won’t blow up.” He winks.

Eliott tries valiantly to suppress a smile. “You are such a… a…”

“Ohhh do tell. A heathen? A no-good, terrible–”

“Dickhead!”

Lucas gasps. “Princeling! That mouth on you! Why I do believe I’ve been a bad influence.”

“Shut up!” Eliott laughs. Lucas follows him to the passenger side of the car where Eliott stops, turning around to hand Lucas the key fob. “Get in the car and drive.”

Lucas reaches for the handle, opening the car door for him with a grand wave of his hand that makes Eliott laugh. “After you.”

* * * *

* * * *

“But shouldn’t there be a gear shift?”

“Eliott,” Lucas sighs with patience he doesn’t possess, “it’s as I said. It’s a fancy car. This dial is the gear shift.” He once again goes through how the dial controls the change of gears, the car operating in manual unless switched to the sports gear in which case standard operation of gears is triggered. “We’ll keep it in manual. If you wanted to drive standard the paddles are on the steering wheel.”

“I don’t want to drive standard. I don’t understand what half of that meant.”

“Ok fair,” Lucas laughs. “So put your foot on the break.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. And then turn the dial to drive.” Lucas watches as Eliott does as told. “Ok, good. Now slowly ease off the break.”

“Lucas. Lucas!” Eliott squeaks, high-pitched and panicked. “We’re moving.”

Lucas chuckles. “Yes, that would be because you eased off the break.”

“But I’m not even pressing the gas pedal!” His hands are a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel, his eyes wide and locked on the driveway ahead of them as they creep along at a pace that from the outside would probably be a comfortable walking stride.

“Yeah, we’re coasting. Relax your hands on the steering wheel. You look like you’re trying to strangle it.”

“I can’t relax.”

“Yes, well the stick up your ass is a topic for another day.”

“I don’t have a stick up my – my _ass_. I am not stuck-up at all.” Eliott objects, eyes skittering briefly to Lucas in genuine offense. “I’m totally cool.”

“You are actually pretty cool,” Lucas admits and is rewarded with a sweet, gratified smile taking up Eliott’s face. “Now press down gently on the gas pedal to give us a little speed.”

“I know how to make the car accelerate,” Eliott replies as though Lucas just said something entirely ridiculous.

“Well excuse me, sassling. You didn’t know the car would coast so I’m not assuming anything.”

Eliott suddenly presses on the gas pedal, far too enthusiastically, lurching the car forward before he panics and slams on the break, jerking them to an abrupt halt.

Lucas who had been nearly choked by his seat belt as a result, clears his throat, pushing back into his seat and gently pulling on the belt to disengage the locking mechanism. “And that’s why seat belts even in the driveway are a good idea.”

“Sorry. Sorry,” Eliott exhales, clearly flustered.

“It’s fine.” It really is. It’s an entirely unnecessary apology. Lucas is pretty sure he did the exact same thing the first time he got properly behind the wheel. “You want to give that another go?”

“Can we just park for a second?” Eliott asks, biting his lip and looking over at Lucas nervously.

“Sure. Take your time.”

“Sorry,” Eliott repeats once the car is back in park. He turns himself on the seat to face Lucas. “I’m just nervous. Being in cars was never fun for me.”

“Really? Why?” Lucas asks, unbuckling his seat belt and turning to face him as well.

“Well as kids we were always in blacked out vehicles and kept at the center of the seats so no one would catch a view of us. And we’d have to duck down any time photographers used flash through the windows.” Eliott explains, face sour with the memory. “It would make me car sick a lot. I dunno. It was just always really stressful.”

“Ya I could see that,” Lucas admits. It sounds terrible honestly. He wonders how many times Manon and Eliott’s comfort was dismissed in favour of their mother’s quest for privacy. Though Lucas imagines it had a lot more to do with control. “I always loved being in the car when I was a kid.”

“Oh yeah? Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess it just felt like–”

“Freedom?” Eliott offers, cheeky smile in place.

“Yes. Don’t be sassy now.” Lucas smiles a little. “Mum used to take me for drives a lot. Looking back, I guess it’s when things weren’t so good. With her and my dad. But she never showed it. We’d go get ice cream or just drive the roads and play music and sing along at the top of our lungs.”

“Rock?”

“Of course. My mum is a woman with discerning taste.”

“I believe it.”

Lucas narrows his eyes as he assesses Eliott’s expression. But Eliott’s tone was sincere and he seems to have meant it. Lucas nods satisfied. “Anyways, we could get away from my dad and just drive. It was always super fun.”

“Like driving when you were – what did you say? Seven?” Eliott recalls Lucas’s earlier words.

“Yeah,” Lucas chuckles in remembering. “It was just on a back empty road and I begged. My legs couldn’t reach the pedals, but I could steer.”

“Was it because of that – because of her that you got into cars?”

“Oh uh, no, not really,” Lucas stutters, a little awkward with it. “That was down to my dad.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Eliott responds quickly, obviously understanding what a sore subject Lucas’s father is. “I didn’t mean to–”

“Nah, it’s ok.” He feels weirdly compelled to talk about it. He hasn’t in – well, ever, really. Maybe to Alexia as little kids but since then he’s avoided talking of his dad at all costs. Not even Yann has heard the grisly details. It doesn’t make sense to him, but he wants to tonight. “Um, my dad had a vintage car collection. Nothing like yours of course, but impressive.”

“And you liked them?”

“Honestly? Not really. Not in the beginning. Pretty much hated them on principle,” Lucas admits, the irony of it colouring his tone. “But my dad figured he’d make me like them.”

“What? Why?” Eliott’s brows pull together in displeasure.

“Well it was a ‘manly’ sort of thing, you know?” Lucas smiles wryly. “Knowing about cars, working on cars.”

“And he wanted you to be _manly_?” Eliott emphasizes the word like the ridiculous, invisible standard it was.

“Mmmm.” Lucas nods tipping his head to lay against the side of the headrest. “I think he could tell even when I was a kid that I wasn’t going to turn into the strapping, ladies man he wanted. I guess he figured he could teach it out of me or something. Like the second I learned to take apart an engine and put it back together again, I’d miraculously forget I was gay.”

“That’s horrible,” Eliott replies, voice laced with anger.

“Eh.” Lucas shrugs, and with a grin adds, “It did give me a thing for sweaty car mechanics in my porn preferences.”

Eliott barks a laugh in surprise. “You idiot.”

“What? There’s a lot of appeal in a muscly man covered in grease who knows the difference between a crankshaft and a piston.” He grins, pleased with his own innuendo-rich wordplay.

Eliott bites his lip as he looks at Lucas with heavy eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

Fuck. Lucas wants him again. He literally just had him. What the fuck is wrong with him? It’s never like this. It was supposed to go away. He itched the scratch, quenched the thirst, claimed the prize at the bottom of the cereal box, and whatever other fucking metaphor fits. He shouldn’t still want Eliott this badly. “Anyways,” he turns away to face out the front window once more, taking a moment to refasten his seat belt, “you ready to try this again without attempting to launch me out the front window?”

“I make no promises,” Eliott replies primly, unphased by the quick change of subject. “You did this to yourself insisting on teaching me how to drive.” 

“You’re going to come to appreciate those masterpieces you house in your garage if it’s the last thing I do,” Lucas states with finality.

“I mean, I might if I got to go driving late at night on empty roads singing along at the top of my lungs,” Eliott suggests with a shy smile. 

“Well, we catch you up enough on your rock education and we can see about that.” 

“Yeah?” Eliott’s smile blossoms into one that turns his eyes to tiny crescent slits.

“‘Course.” Lucas turns away to better hide his own smile. “Ok now, a little easier on the gas pedal this time.”

Eliott manages to get them the rest of the way up the driveway without crashing into a tree or causing Lucas to be strangled by his seat belt, so all in all it’s a success.

“Are you going to come up?” Eliott asks as they get out of the Jag and stand in the garage. Lucas had wondered that himself – where he’d spend the night. Just how bad an idea it would be to accept Eliott should he ask Lucas to spend the night with him. It’s not a good idea. Of that Lucas is sure. But just how bad an idea it is, he hasn’t entirely decided on.

“Uh,” Lucas waffles, pulling his hair back from his face and ruffling it to buy himself a little time, “I think it’s probably best that I–”

“Is this what you’re going to be like from now on?” Eliott asks, voice infused with humour.

“What?” Lucas looks up at him in surprise.

“We got off together, so now you’re going to be super weird around me and act like every time I want to spend time with you it’s the equivalent of a marriage proposal?”

Lucas snaps his mouth shut from where it had apparently fallen open. “Oh, ok then. If you must know, you sassiest of sasspups, that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

“Oh yeah?” Eliott grins.

“Yeah,” Lucas nods seriously. “Nothing but awkwardness from here on out. Avoided eye contact, freezing up every time our hands touch, stuttered partial sentences – the works.”

Eliott giggles. “For how long?”

“Infinite time, sasspup. That’s how it goes,” Lucas replies smartly.

“But we’re friends,” Eliott argues, his smile a seemingly permanent thing. “Surely you can do the awkward thing while we share a bed, _as friends_.”

He’s so fucking cute. Eyes crinkled with his smile, shoulders scrunched up to his ears, rocking slightly back and forth on his feet with his hands shoved in his pockets. Trouble. Nothing but trouble. “Well that depends.” Lucas narrows his eyes as he looks at him. “You gonna do that whole thing where we start on opposite sides of the bed but _Oh! Oh dear!_ We just happen to be wrapped around one another in the morning?”

Eliott snorts with laughter. “You sound like you know a lot about that. I think it’s you I can’t trust.”

“Nah,” Lucas denies. “I’m too used to sleeping on couches. I move too much, I fall off. I am dead still when I sleep.”

“Ugh,” Eliott wrinkles his nose. “That’s a creepy way to describe it.” He looks at Lucas for a moment before tilting his head towards the door, a more serious look on his face. “Come on. We’re friends. It’s not a big deal. It was a one-time thing anyways, right?” He doesn’t look entirely sure as he says it, waiting for Lucas to confirm.

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees easily, a feeling coursing through him he’s going to label relief. “A one-time thing between friends. No big deal.”

“So, you’re coming?” Eliott begins walking backwards towards the door.

“Princeling, turn the fuck around. You’re going to trip over something,” Lucas scolds.

Eliott smiles, still moving backwards. “Coming?”

“Yes. Fuck.” Lucas walks to catch up. “Now turn around.”

* * * *

“What are you doing?” Eliott asks amused.

“I’m saying good night to Brian,” Lucas answers the obvious, peering into the terrarium.

“I thought you didn’t like him?”

“Pssshhh. I said no such thing.” Lucas leans down to get a better look at the snake who is currently curled in a neat little spiral but has raised his head to stare back. At least that’s what it looks like he’s doing. “Don’t listen to him Brian. He’s just jealous of our budding relationship.”

“Oh really?” Eliott comes to stand next to him. “Do you want to hold him then?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Lucas says standing quickly. “Slow down there. Brian and I are taking it slow. No need to rush this.”

Eliott laughs softly. “That’s probably the best tactic with Brian anyways.”

“Was it really unusual for him to react the way he did to me?” Lucas asks curiously.

“Mmhmm,” Eliott confirms. “He doesn’t react to a lot of people at all really. But he reacted to you.”

“And Idriss apparently,” Lucas snickers remembering.

“Ok and him. But in a very different way,” Eliott laughs, adding, “He knows who he likes and he’s pretty obvious about it, but he’s pretty reserved all together.”

“Why? Are all snakes like that?” Lucas reaches forward to adjust the heat lamp a little so it better falls on Brian.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I just know it’s better to take it slow. You can’t rush him into anything he doesn’t want. It needs to be his idea. Sound familiar?” Eliott bumps a shoulder into his.

Why the cheeky little… “You said it yourself, he and I are kindred spirits.”

“I believe I said you were kin actually,” Eliott says clearly delighting in the annoyed look Lucas throws his way.

“You watch it. You’re on thin fucking ice with me and Brian right now.”  
  
“You speak for Brian, now?”

“That I do. And just like him,” Lucas motions to where Brian has returned his head to his circular little nook, “I’m fucking tired. Let’s go to bed.”

“Wow. One orgasm with me and he’s dead on his feet.”

A laugh bursts from Lucas involuntarily. “Fuck you! I’m going to wash up. And I’m using _your_ toothbrush!” He marches towards the connected bathroom.

“Lucas, that’s gross!” Eliott protests. “Look under the sink there should be extra bathroom supplies.”

“Yah, we’ll see.”

“Don’t be gross Lucas. Use a new toothbrush!”

“Hey, don’t forget you signed up for this,” Lucas calls back shutting the bathroom door as Eliott continues to whine.

When he looks under the sink there is indeed a new toothbrush available. He moves Eliott’s anyways, wetting in under the tap and leaving it on the opposite side of the sink. It’s what he deserves.

* * * *

Waking is rarely a pleasant experience for Lucas. Most mornings he wakes due to his alarm blaring, his body screaming in discomfort from sleeping on a couch all night, or his brain startling him into consciousness, heart beat frantic, stressed from dreams he can’t even recall. It’s different this morning. He’s gentled into waking. Consciousness slowly slips in, warm and comforting. There’s no aching muscles or alarm demanding he awake. He can’t remember his dreams but a feeling of calm remains, a definitive contrast from the norm – his brain likes to work out all of life’s problems in his sleep and he’s never quite been able to prevent it, usually waking more tired than he went to bed. He sighs happily as the sounds and feeling of the waking world around him begin to filter in, burrowing deeper into the covers and pushing his arms forward in a satisfying stretch.

“Hey,” comes a voice as his hands connect with a solid form, “you’re already hogging all the covers, you’re not pushing me off the bed too.”

Lucas doesn’t startle at the sound of him: Eliott. Even while waking and only half-conscious his body and brain somehow seemed to remember he was there. There’s nothing familiar about it, waking up next to someone. It’s not something Lucas does. And yet the feeling of Eliott there somehow _is_ familiar, as though more than his waking self recognizes Eliott.

Lucas blinks his eyes open, peering over at Eliott as he burrows himself even further, pulling the covers up to half cover his head and face. “Lies. I’m not hogging anything.”

Eliott turns his head towards Lucas from where he rests on his back, phone held in front of him as he catches up on messages. He raises a brow, looking pointedly at Lucas before turning his head to look down at himself. And so ok, maybe he’s only half covered by the sheet and not covered by the plush comforter at all but that’s hardly Lucas’s fault. If Eliott relinquished the covers that easily than that’s what he gets. 

“Not my fault you’re a wimp who can’t hang onto his own blankets,” Lucas says.

“A wimp?!” Eliott squawks offended, setting his phone aside. It makes Lucas giggle and he presses the covers more tightly to his face to muffle the sound, nodding obviously. “That’s it. Give them back then.” Eliott reaches to grab the comforter.

“Nooooo,” Lucas snorts with laughter as Eliott pulls the cover back from his face. “You gave them up. They’re mine now.” He attempts to fight him off through the cover as Eliott goes about trying to un-burrow him. “They never want to see you again!”

Eliott gasps. “Now _that_ is lies! This comforter and I have a special relationship. It would never betray me like that.”

“ _Special relationship_ ,” Lucas snickers. “Sounds dirty.”

“Oh you are just way too cocky, right now.” Eliott begins pulling more aggressively, managing to expose one of Lucas’s legs to the cold air. He kicks it out in retaliation and attempts to smother his laughter. He really does. But it’s hopeless. One more aggressive tug from Eliott, his face bunched in determination and Lucas bursts into giggles, high-pitched and childlike even to his own ears. It’s embarrassing but he can’t control it.

Eliott freezes where he’s managed to pull the sheet all the way out from Lucas’s nest, his hands now wrapped around the comforter. He stares, his expression a strange mix of surprise and awe. His grip on the cover loosens and Lucas takes advantage, rolling away from Eliott and off the bed, taking the entirety of the comforter with him. He wraps it around himself as best as he can manage, bringing it up to cover the back of his head like a hood.

“Now then,” Lucas sniffs haughtily, “I believe we’ve established the rightful owner of the blanket. It’s time I laid claim to your clothes.”

“What?” Eliott asks, eyes wide.

Lucas exhales around a laugh. “I need to go to work, sassling. It’s… what time is it?” _Oh shit is he late?_

Eliott reaches for his phone to check. “It’s 8:14.”

Good. Plenty of time. “Perfect. I have just enough time to change and get to the garage. So… clothes?”

“You want to wear my clothes?” Eliott asks, somehow looking just as startled.

“Uh… yeah,” Lucas responds, voice ripe with mocking. Eliott had offered some last night but it was just as easy for Lucas to sleep in his own. He’s not sure why Eliott looks so shocked by the idea this morning. “I wore this all yesterday, went to the bar in it, got off in it,” he pauses to watch Eliott’s cheeks colour a little at the mention, “and _then_ slept in it. I’m disgusting.” He can’t imagine he smells all that amazing right now that’s for sure. He’s most definitely nicking some of Eliott’s deodorant in the bathroom. “I just need a shirt,” he adds. “Pants should be ok. And the underwear will just have to wait ‘til tonight.” He smirks. “Thankfully I came _on_ you and not _in_ them.”

Eliott gapes at him. “How do you manage to say the dirtiest things while looking so completely ridiculous?”

Lucas shrugs, adjusting his blanket hood. “It’s a talent you’re born with, Princeling. What can I say? It’s in my blood. Now,” he snaps his fingers, “chop, chop! Shirt please.”

Eliott sighs dramatically, getting out of bed and making his way towards his dresser. “And he calls _me_ Buttercup. Sometimes I’m not sure which one of us is the Prince.” He mumbles it under his breath, but he intends for Lucas to hear, of that Lucas is sure.

“I would make a terrible Prince,” Lucas objects infusing his voice with cheek. “My nose doesn’t tip that high.”

“Lucas,” Eliott says turning around, shirt in hand and an abruptly serious expression on his face, “do you really believe I think I’m better than you?”

 _Shit_. Lucas wasn’t expecting to be confronted with the heavy-hitting questions first thing in the morning. He’d like to make a joke, to brush aside the question, to avoid all talk that dredges up feelings associated with their failed movie night and following fight. But Eliott looks so earnest and worried and… Lucas feels compelled to treat his answer with the same gravity. He pulls the comforter down, tossing it towards the bed as he considers how to answer.

“I think you were raised in a way that doesn’t afford you the easy ability to… notice the way you treat people who are seen as subordinates in your life.”

“That’s horrible though,” Eliott replies, looking anguished. “I don’t want to be that person. I don’t – I _don’t_ think I’m better than anyone else. Especially not because I’m a _Prince_."

“I know.” And he does. Despite the words he spit at Eliott in the heat of anger, he does know. “But I don’t think you always recognize your privilege, Princeling. Or the power it gives you over others. Not just to order them around, but to affect the way they feel about themselves.”

“I do realize my privilege though,” Eliott protests.

“Resenting it is not the same as recognizing it.”

Eliott looks shocked as he responds, “What makes you think I resent it?”

“Don’t you?”

Eliott sighs deeply. “I resent my lack of control,” he admits. “I felt for so many years like I didn’t even have control over my own mind. I still feel that way sometimes. And then the one area of my life I should be able to control – I should be able to shape – and it’s all being decided for me.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’d completely freak if someone tried to control my life and choices.” He ran away from it in fact. Ran away and never looked back.

“Manon’s better at it than me anyways. Sometimes I think I don’t want it at all.” Eliott speaks quietly, a sad resignation to his voice.

“What? Being a Prince?”

“I don’t want to have to be nice to Charles just because we need his support. I don’t want to upset my friends – to anger you. I don’t want people to think I’m just pompous rich boy who doesn’t care about others.” He stares into Lucas’s eyes as he speaks, clear distress reflected in his own.

“Literally no one could ever think that about you.” He means it. No one who has ever met Eliott could think him anything but a kind and generous person.

“But didn’t you? Don’t you still – sometimes? And I hate it. I don’t want to choose between duty and… being a decent person.” He rakes a hand through his hair frustrated.

“Do you have to? That’s my point. Do you have to?” Lucas moves closer to Eliott as he speaks. “Compassion and leadership should go hand-in-hand. I don’t get the thing with Charles and I’m not going to pretend to understand the pressures courtesy of your mom but Eliott, you have a chance to change things. You and Manon. There are people starving in this city, children without places to sleep at night, people sleeping on the street because they can’t afford rent despite having jobs, kids like Emily who can benefit from your intervention – your protection … and you’re in a position where you can affect change, you can influence government! Policy! That’s fucking amazing. Most of us will never, ever be offered the chance at that sort of influence – _positive_ influence. You don’t have to do things the same way – the way your mother does them, the way they’ve always been done… ruling with exorbitant, undistributed wealth. You can change things. Maybe not overnight. You don’t have to immediately change the world. But you can try. You can make a difference.”

They stand in silence for a moment as Eliott contemplates Lucas’s words. “I didn’t know you were such an idealist,” he speaks with a smile. “I thought you hated us – this. The institution.”

Lucas shrugs, a little embarrassed now by his impassioned speech. “You’re not the institution.”

“Aren’t I?”

“Only when you’re being a shithead,” Lucas comments pointedly with an eyebrow raised. “And it’s like I said, you can change the institution.”

“I think you have too much faith in me.”

“I think my faith is well placed. I don’t just dole it out at random you know. Experience has taught me to ration it. But with you…” He shrugs, leaving the thought unfinished. Eliott’s staring at him, the intensity of his gaze makes it feel like he’s peeling back layer after layer of Lucas’s defenses. Lucas clears his throat pointing at the shirt in Eliott’s hands. “Anyways, I’m gonna go change. That for me?”

Eliott nods, not saying more, simply handing over the shirt. Lucas can’t stand the honesty of his gaze anymore. He turns and hurriedly makes his way to the bathroom. He washes up as best as he can without a full shower, makes sure to steal a little of Eliott’s deodorant, and changes quickly. Eliott’s shirt stretches a little on his biceps but otherwise hangs a little loose around his shoulders and chest. When he leaves the bathroom Eliott is sitting on the bed once more looking at his phone, a creased look of concentration on his face.

“Alright,” Lucas announces, “my babies in the garage await.”

Eliott’s head pops up with a smile. It vanishes the moment he sets eyes on Lucas. Mouth parting open just a little, his eyes track quickly down to the shirt Lucas wears before coming to rest back on his face. Lucas snorts at the look on his face.

“What?” He grins. “You gonna pop a boner seeing me in your shirt?”

Eliott flushes immediately. “God, shut up!”

“‘God’ is it now? I knew that was one hell of an orgasm, but I wasn’t expecting that kind of upgrade in status. Gotta say, I like it.” Lucas smiles, shameless and thoroughly enjoying the way Eliott looks so ruffled.

“You are so annoying. The most annoying person I have ever met,” Eliott grumps, looking absolutely ridiculous and adorable pouting, cheeks still scarlet.

“Sure, sasspup, sure.” Lucas grabs his jacket, checking that he has his cell though the battery is likely near dead at this point. “Ok I’m off. So, you feel free to take care of that situation however you see fit.” He looks meaningfully down at Eliott’s crotch. And while it’s impossible at the angle Eliott sits to tell whether his dick has in fact taken an interest in Lucas wearing his clothing, his comment has the intended effect, nevertheless.

Eliott makes a sound of supreme outrage and sends a pillow flying in Lucas’s direction. Lucas laughs as it lands nowhere near him, smiling as he backs to the door. One last wink and a tip of the head and he leaves, shutting the door behind him with a soft chuckle.

He’s still grinning stupidly to himself as he begins walking down the hall and he’s so distracted he almost misses the sound of voices coming towards him. _Fuck_. He can’t tell who it is, but one thing is for sure, there is no legitimate reason Lucas can give for being in this hallway, directly outside Eliott’s bedroom. He turns and moves towards Eliott’s door only to freeze just as he reaches for the handle. What if they’re coming to see Eliott? Sure, Lucas could attempt hiding in his room anyways but the risk factor of doing such a thing is exponential. Fuck fuck fuck. The voices are louder, female… definitely not Manon. He dashes for the door past Eliott’s. He remembers Chloe saying it’s an empty room, and barrels right inside, closing the door behind him as gently as possible. Only when he swings around and gets a good look at the room, it’s clear it’s been occupied. The bed sheets are a rumpled pile at the end of the bed, and a few items of clothing are thrown over a side chair… including a bra. Oh god. _What the fuck?!_ Lucas presses his ear to the door, listening as the voices enter the hall and the footsteps come closer… and closer. He turns and frantically scans the room. There’s a couch placed in the corner, close enough to the door to allow him a potential escape route, but not so close as to allow him to be immediately seen. He leaps for it, crawling behind and pressing himself against the back. He has a partial view of the door, but he doesn’t think he could be easily spotted.

Just as he feared he’s chosen the exact room he shouldn’t have. The door opens and two women walk in. Not just two women – Chloe and Lucille. He’s so taken aback, for a moment he considers just announcing himself and asking what they’re doing here. He could get away with making an ass out of himself in front of Chloe and knows that while she’d tease him, she’d be unlikely to hold it against him or ask too many questions. He’s not as sure of Lucille, though she’s always seemed cool. It’s as he’s debating that the choice is made for him. They’ve walked in with a tray of food and Lucille takes it from Chloe, setting it onto a table. The door shuts and Lucille turns back and then… she’s pressing Chloe back up against it and then they’re kissing. Kissing like lovers. Familiar and passionate.

 _What is happening?_ WHAT IS HAPPENING?! Chloe and Lucille? Lucille and Chloe?! How, what, when, and why?! Lucas jaw metaphorically hits the floor. Lucille wraps her arms around Chloe’s waist, lifting her slightly and spinning her around as Chloe giggles. Is this who Chloe’s been sleeping with? God, of fucking course it is. How did Lucas have no idea? How the fuck did Chloe hide this so effectively? Though now that he thinks about it, Eliott had told him Lucille was involved with someone her parents would absolutely not approve of. That it’s Chloe – a woman – suddenly sheds new light on that fact. As does the fact that Lucille apparently prefers to stay at the Palace versus her own home. And she and Chloe had sat together at the movie night. And both had been gone by the time Charles arrived. And then there was that night Chloe left the club early. Lucille hadn’t been with the rest of them – presumably back at the Palace. And–

Lucas is thrown out of his musings by a very clear moan followed by both of them giggling. Oh god. OH GOD. They’re going to have sex. They’re going to have sex and Lucas is in the room. This cannot be a thing that is happening. This is not a reality Lucas is living in. Nope. No, sir. Lucas knows nothing about sex with women and he’d like to keep it that way. The mysteries of sex _between_ women especially will remain just that. _A mystery_. He needs to get the fuck out that door and somehow without them noticing. He crawls forward enough to peer around the couch. Lucille is straddling Chloe on the bed, their hands are threaded together, pressed to either side of Chloe’s head and they’re kissing deeply. Both their eyes are closed… maybe if he tries now–

“You are so beautiful. Do you know that?” Lucille says sitting up just a little and smiling down at Chloe.

“No,” Chloe denies, shy, turning her head a little to bury it in her shoulder.

“You are,” Lucille insists. She moves one hand to gently stroke Chloe’s face. “My love.”

My love? _Love?!_ They’re in love? It would be sweet, lovely even, if Lucille’s words hadn’t resulted in the two of them enthusiastically divesting themselves of their clothing. Oh sweet baby Jesus. Lucas retreats back behind the couch. He can text Eliott! Eliott can come and interrupt them and somehow draw them from the room and Lucas can escape! He scrambles for his phone, pulling it as quietly as possible from his pocket and very firmly ignoring the sounds he hears drifting from the bed. Fuck. It’s dead. Of course it is. Because this is what Lucas’s life has become.

 _“Lucy… baby…_ ”

Never in his life did Lucas ever think he’d have to hear Chloe moan like that. He claps hands over his ears. He just has to last long enough for them to be… adequately distracted… in the thick of thighs so to speak… when they won’t notice the door opening, god willing. A particularly loud groan suddenly pierces through the hands he holds to his ears. He pulls his legs up to his chest and begins rocking slightly back and forth. _You can do this, Lucas._ _You can do this_. It’s just two women who love one another having sex. Lovely really. Beautiful. Nothing to be frightened of. Totally natural.

“ _Oh god yes, right there.”_

Nope. NOPE. He can’t do this. He moves to the end of the couch and begins crawling towards the door. Out of the corner of his eye he can see they are… occupied. There’s skin, a lot of skin… and a lot of noises. His poor, traumatized, exposed ears will be never be the same. He’s at the door. Freedom is within his grasp. He turns the knob as carefully as possible, refusing to turn to check the bed to see if they continue to be adequately distracted. He’s assuming the… sounds would have stopped if they’d noticed him. The sounds have most certainly not stopped. In fact, Chloe’s sounds have increased in pace and intensity. Oh sweet mother of all things gay, save him. He opens the door only a sliver, just enough to squeeze himself through. And then the door is shut and he’s in the hall. He can hear the enthusiastic sounds of Lucille and Chloe continue through the door. They didn’t see him. He made it. Move, Lucas. MOVE.

He leaps up and legs like jelly dashes back to Eliott’s door, slamming it open and then closed behind him. He rests his head up against it, panting with the adrenaline running through his body.

“Eliott. Eliott, the things I just saw. The things I _heard_. I will never be the same.” He presses his forehead harder into the door. “There was naked skin, Eliott. Naked skin and it was _girl_ naked skin. And the moans. Oh god I’d congratulate Chloe if I wasn’t so fucking traumatized.”

He pushes off the door and turns to face Eliott, shuddering exaggeratedly to get his trauma across. Eliott is on the bed, shirt off now and oddly with a sheet up around him, knees bent and pulled awkwardly towards his chest. He’s red in the face, a little sweaty at his temples, eyes wide and obviously shocked to see Lucas. _Wait_. Was he…

“What were you doing?” Lucas can feel his mouth pulling up slowly in a devilish smirk as he takes in Eliott’s appearance.

“I was – um – I…” He’s out of breath. He totally _was_. Holy fuck. “What are you doing here?”

“It was me in the shirt that did it, wasn’t it?” Lucas grins plucking at the shirt he wears. “I knew it. Glad you took my advice.”

“Oh god,” Eliott moans miserably covering his face with both hands. “Please just leave.”

Lucas laughs. God this is maybe one of the top five best things that has ever happened to him. “Alright, alright.” He takes a quick mental snapshot before pulling the door open. “You sure you don’t need a little extra inspiration to get you going again? I didn’t mean to knock you out of the mood.”

“Lucas, _please_ ,” Eliott wails, muffled through his hands.

“Ok, ok. I’m going.” He turns to leave before throwing one last comment over his shoulder. “For the record, I’m absolutely jerking off to this image later so don’t be too embarrassed.”

It’s the least he can offer. Interrupting Eliott like that.

* * * *

A number of threatening texts from Yann await him when he plugs his phone in to charge in the garage. While Yann is used to Lucas regularly disappearing with various hookups, Lucas would normally have sent him a text at the very least assuring Yann he’d be spending the night elsewhere. He’s ashamed to say that last night he hadn’t even thought of it. He types back quickly.

_I’m fine. Sorry. I’m already at work. Call off the cadaver dogs._

Yann texts back immediately. **_You fucking prick._** Lucas snorts at the sight.

_I’ll come see you at lunch and you can chew me out_

**_You’re eating Brussel sprouts only today_ **

Well that’s just… uncalled for punishment. _Rude._

He throws himself into his work. The Chevy is coming along. In fact, once the parts arrive he’d had Arthur order for him, it just might be up and running.

He’s a little late to lunch but then… with Brussel sprouts being the threat awaiting him he’s in no particular rush. Arthur is at the bench table, paperwork spread in front of him, when Lucas arrives to the kitchen and with a quick look to see that Yann is busy at the stove, he makes his way over.

“You look stressed,” he remarks, bumping fists with Arthur in greeting.

Arthur hums in agreement. “Staffing details for during the Italian Prince’s visit. Never mind all the details for the Ball. And the event planner is a nightmare. I _am_ stressed.”

In all honestly, Lucas had forgotten entirely it was coming up. “When is he coming again?”

“Two weeks,” Arthur mumbles, scribbling notes onto the paper in front of him.

Two weeks. Two weeks until Prince Niccolò arrives and Eliott puts his plan in action to … seduce him or whatever. He picks up one of Arthur’s pens and taps it against the table in a staccato rhythm.

“There’s so much to freaking do,” Arthur complains. “Wait,” he looks up at Lucas, a spark in his eyes Lucas doesn’t like that all, “what are you doing during the Ball?”

Lucas laughs. “Um… the cars? The showcase? I will be a little busy.” It’s the task that likely scared Victor into retiring. Lucas is to have at least four cars ready to be put on display at the ball. They do not have to be in perfect working condition, but they must _look_ as though they are, and that in itself is enough of a challenge. Not only that but Lucas is to be there to show them off, answer any questions, and ensure their care through the evening. It’s not an event he’s particularly looking forward to. He’s loves talking about cars. But talking about cars with the stuffy, ridiculously wealthy and uptight society people of France honestly sounds like a task set-up to torture Lucas specifically. But he’ll do it. And he’ll do it well. Because it’s his job.

“Fuck. Sorry. I forgot.” Having decided Lucas is of no help, Arthur looks back down at the papers in front of him.

“Have you met him?” Lucas asks, flipping the pen through his fingers. Back and forth. Back and forth. At Arthur’s inquiring look he clarifies. “Niccolò. Have you met him?”

“Of course,” Arthur answers looking irritated that Lucas interrupted him with such an inane question.

“What’s he like?” Lucas can’t help but ask.

Arthur sighs, obviously running low on patience for Lucas’s questions at present but… Lucas still wants to know.

“He’s fine. He’s nice. Why?”

“I dunno.” Lucas’s frenetic fiddling with the pen accidentally sends it skittering towards Arthur who picks it up with an unimpressed look. “I just wanted to know if we were going to have another Charles on our hands, I guess. I’m likely going to have to meet him after all.”

“Oh,” Arthur nods understandingly. “No. Nothing like that. Prince Niccolò is ridiculously nice. He and Eliott are quite similar actually.”

Lucas shifts uncomfortably and really wants to grab the pen back from Arthur. A sharp wack to the back of the head effectively distracts him.

“Asshole.”

Lucas turns to look at Yann. “Don’t even try to pretend you can stay mad at this face.” He throws in his best puppy dog eyes for good measure.

“Where the fuck were you anyways? Did you leave with Eliott? He disappeared too.”

Yann’s tone isn’t particularly suspicious, and Lucas knows him well enough to recognize he was simply worried for Lucas. Just the same, Lucas isn’t entirely sure he wants to share any of the details of what happened. He’s never kept the sordid details of various hookups from Yann before – in fact he delights in providing Yann with _too many_ details – but this feels different. It wasn’t a hookup. It was Eliott. Even as just a one-time thing. It’s still… Eliott. It’s different.

“Yeah I found him after having a little fun myself,” he wiggles his eyebrows and is satisfied by the eye-roll it elicits from Yann. “Anyways I dropped him off and slept here. Sorry I didn’t text. Phone died.” It’s not the complete truth but it’s not a lie either.

Surprisingly this seems enough for Yann and he nods before pushing Lucas over and taking a seat next to him in the bench. He throws a look towards Arthur, who seems entirely uninterested in the conversation going on in front of him, before he turns back to Lucas. “It’s alright. I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Wait – what?” Lucas asks perplexed. It’s not that he wants Yann to be mad but… “Since when? I was expecting at least a ten-minute lecture.”

“Uh,” Yann rubs a hand over his mouth and jaw, looking uncomfortable, “I got a letter from my landlord.”

“Oh?” That’s a bizarre change of topic but Lucas will roll with it.

“Yeah, uh, so he knows I guess that you’ve been living with me.” Yann won’t meet his eyes as he speaks. “It’s a warning. Either I start paying for two people to live there or you leave.”

“What the fuck?! You rent a one bedroom! Who gives a fuck if you have twenty people living there with you?!” Lucas replies, completely outraged.

“Yeah, I know. He’s a scamming fucking crook. We’ve always known that. It’s like that time he charged me for the noise complaint, remember that?” Lucas nods. “He just sees an opportunity to cash-in honestly.”

“That’s fucked. What are you going to do?”

Yann hesitates for only a second, but it speaks for itself. “We could look for a different place? A two bedroom? Or just pay the extra?”

“No, no,” Lucas dismisses, stomach churning. He’s an inconvenience to Yann. No longer only in theory but in actual financial practice. Yann’s too kind to say he wants him out, but Lucas knows it’s true. He doesn’t blame Yann. The place is way too small for one person never mind two. And Yann is always having to consider Lucas any time he wants to bring someone home. It’s… totally understandable. A long time coming really. “This is perfect actually,” he lies. “Chloe mentioned there’s a room available here in staff quarters,” he hopes that’s still true, “and I was thinking it would be way more convenient anyways.”

“Really?” Yann asks, skeptical but looking a little hopeful. Lucas made the right call.

“Yeah,” he assures with a smile, hoping it doesn’t look put-on. “Just didn’t want to leave you high and dry, you know? Have you crying into your pillow at night with missing me and all.”

Yann chuckles, clearly relieved. “It _will_ take some getting used to that’s for sure. No one hogging the bathroom or leaving dirty dishes in the sink. I won’t know what to do with myself.”

“You’ll cry into your pillow – like I said.” He grins. “That and bring home chicks without having to worry I’ll overhear your sexy sounds.” Sexy sounds. Oh god. Oh no, now he’s thinking about Lucille and Chloe again. Repress. REPRESS.

“You ok?” Yann asks obviously picking up on Lucas’s immediate distress.

“Ugh, yeah. Just really traumatizing experience earlier. And actually, speaking of one of the people responsible for said traumatizing experience, I’ll go talk to Chloe about the room now.”

“What do you need to talk to Chloe for? I’m the one responsible for staffing including accommodation,” Arthur suddenly speaks. Lucas would have bet serious money Arthur was too into his work to have heard a thing he and Yann had been speaking about. “There’s a room available. It’s no problem. Come see me later in my office and we’ll work out the details.” He says it all without looking up once, continuing to jot notes down onto his staffing schedule.

Lucas and Yann exchange a look, both suppressing laughter. “Well… that was easy then,” Lucas snorts.

Yann claps a hand to his back. “I’ll get Bas to bring you something to eat.” He stands to walk away.

“Brussel sprouts?” Lucas asks, wearing his most pitiful expression when Yann turns around.

“You just got yourself new digs. I suppose that calls for a celebratory grilled cheese.”

Lucas pumps his fist in triumph. “Yes! With pickles on the side?”

Yann rolls his eyes. “Yes, with pickles on the side. I’m your best friend, you think I’d forget the pickles?”

Lucas smiles at him, genuine and warm. “Nah, I never doubted you for a second. You’re my best friend.”

* * * *

* * * * 

* * * *

It would have been too good to be true if he’d managed to avoid seeing Chloe for the day. And never in Lucas’s life has he ever had luck on his side. As he’s walking up to Arthur’s office to discuss his accommodation, Chloe comes bounding out. When she sees Lucas her face breaks into a smile and she skips towards him, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug.

“I haven’t seen you all day!” She cries happily. If only Lucas could say the same. “You’re moving in?!”

“Yeah,” he replies, stepping back and scrubbing a hand through his hair as he looks everywhere but at her. “Just headed to talk to Arthur about it now.”

“We are going to have so much fun!” Chloe squeals. “Roomies!”

“Yeah it’ll be great,” he remarks with a small smile, eyes darting away from hers.

She stares at him for a moment, her smile dimming as she scrutinizes his behaviour. “Why are you being weird?” She asks bluntly.

Lucas scoffs. “I’m not being weird!” Fuck that was too defensive. Goddammit Lucas, play it cool! You do _not_ have intimate knowledge of what Chloe sounds like with Lucille between her legs.

Her eyes narrow as she looks at him and he breaks her gaze once more. “You are too being weird,” she says.

“I’m fine. Great even. Totally normal, boring day for me.” Nothing to see here. Move along.

“You’re not fine. You’re weird.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Not.”

“Too!”

“I’m not! I’m the breast. BEST. I’m the best.” _Fuck._ He swears he’s normally better at lying. Apparently lesbian sex brings out the non-chill in him. Time to distract. “You just think I’m being weird because I’m not bouncing off the walls like you. Why are _you_ in such a good mood?”

Her face comes alight with her smile. “I don’t know,” she grins, coy. “Last night was just really good.” Yeah, Lucas is all too aware. This morning wasn’t too bad to her either.

“Oh yeah? Things are good then? With you and your uh, your person?”

“My person?” Chloe laughs. “Ok yes. Things are good with me and my person.” She scrunches her nose. “That sounds like I’m talking about myself.”

“You ever gonna tell me who it is?” He pries, watching her closely.

She blushes prettily, tipping her head down and tucking her hair behind her ears. “Maybe.” She looks back up at him. “We’re neighbours now.”

“What does that mean? Late night gossip sesh’s over a pint of ice cream? Giggling and braiding one another’s hair?”

“You should be so lucky,” she retorts. “Gossip sesh’s with me are highly sought after.”

He laughs, charmed. “Alright. I’ll hold you to it.” He motions towards Arthur’s office. “I should go though. Better make sure I have that room before you go planning any late-night bonding.”

“ _Dirty_ ,” she giggles. Oh god. She truly is a female him. No kidding he likes her.

“Get outta my way you troublemaker,” he pushes her aside as she laughs and moves towards Arthur’s office. “Hey Chloe?” He adds, pausing at the door to turn to look at her.

“Yeah?” She asks, turning back to him.

“I’m really happy for you.”

A vibrant smile expands on her face. She looks touched, her eyes looking a little shiny. There’s just way too much sincerity happening in this moment.

He adds for good measure, “You deserve to be nailed by someone who knows what they’re doing. And well… if it can’t be me…”

She rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“Sure you can,” he grins.

“Ugh. Whatever,” she huffs with a smile. “I’m leaving.”

“Later neighbour,” he calls after her.

Living here might not be so bad. 

* * * *

* * * *

It’s a small room. Just enough space for a double bed, a side table with a lamp, as well as a small desk and chair separated by only about an arms width from the bed, and a tiny three drawer dresser. A small window partially blocked by a bush overlooks the back grounds. There’s no tv and décor consists of a few ugly prints framed on the wall above the bed. It’s perfect. It’s Lucas’s. And while the rent will take a chunk from his paycheque he truly can’t afford, it’s really his. Lucas delights in the knowledge. There’s no one he’s inconveniencing. He has a bed. His own bed with proper sheets and everything. There’s a bathroom across the hall and he’ll only be sharing it with a few people. There’s a tiny kitchen nook for them all to share as well, with basic cooking implements and a little kitchen table. It’s better than he ever could have hoped.

He had very little to pick up from Yann’s, really just his clothes, toiletries, a few pictures, his copy of The Princess Bride, and a couple of books. He’s learned over the years not to hold on to too many possessions. It’s always been essential that everything he owns can easily be packed into one bag. He’s always needed to be able to pack and leave at a moment’s notice. He’s never had the luxury of making a place truly his own. There’s never been a place he wanted to _stay_. To set down roots. And perhaps impermanent housing in his workplace isn’t something that should inspire such feelings but… it does. It’s Lucas’s. He wants it to be his.

Unpacking doesn’t really consist of much. He puts his clothes in the dresser, and then carefully stacks his books and the DVD on his desk. He tacks a few well-worn photos to the wall above his bed. One is of he and Alexia as kids, arms around one another’s shoulders, an ice cream stain down Lucas’s shirt. It had been just after Alexia had moved out of the shelter and back with her mom. They’d come back one day to take Lucas out for ice cream. When Alexia had moved out Lucas had convinced himself despite her promises to the contrary, that he’d never see her again. That day she’d come running into the shelter to take him out for ice cream had been one of the greatest in his life. The other two pictures are of he and his mom. A recent one of them celebrating Christmas together at her housing. In the other Lucas is maybe only five years old, sitting on his mother’s lap in his Spiderman pajamas. She’s dressed to the nines. He dimly remembers the moment – or more the feeling behind the moment. She and his father had been going to an event. Lucas had been upset she was leaving. The picture is of the moment his mother had hauled him into her lap and tickled him until he gave in and laughed. It was his babysitter who had captured the moment and he’s forever grateful. He remembers his mom’s words in that moment, “I’m yours and you’re mine. I’ll always come home to you.”

A soft knock at his door echoes through the small space. He smiles, expecting Chloe on the other side. Only it’s not Chloe he sees when he opens the door. It’s Eliott, standing looking adorable and bashful.

“Oh, I see,” Lucas snorts. “He finds out where I live and suddenly thinks it’s ok to show up on my doorstep.”

Eliott grins shyly. “Just wanted to see how the move-in was going.”

“And what if I’d been entertaining?” Lucas asks eyebrows raised. “Without even a warning you were coming.”

“Entertaining?” Eliott’s expression falls.

“Yes,” Lucas nods motioning to the tiny room behind him. “Could have been hosting a dinner party for twenty in here. Then I would have felt pressured to invite you to join us, but I don’t have a spare chair for you Eliott and then what am I supposed to do?”

Eliott breaks into a relieved smile. “You’re ridiculous.” He motions to the room behind Lucas. “Well you’re not currently hosting your dinner party for twenty so are you going to invite me in?”

Lucas rolls his eyes, moving aside to allow Eliott to pass. “Presumptuous. Maybe they’re just running late.”

“Mmm, I’m sure,” Eliott hums as he looks about the room. “Love what you’ve done with the place.”

“Fuck off,” Lucas scoffs, genuinely a little offended. “I don’t have that much to – anyways I’m not an interior decorator. It’s just a room. Whatever.”

Eliott looks back at him quickly. “I wasn’t making fun.” He points to the pictures on the wall. “These are you?”

Lucas nods smiling and walking towards him. “Yeah. That’s Alexia as a bratty teen,” he points her out, “and that’s my mom.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Lucas smiles proud. “She really is.”

Eliott turns to continue his perusal of the room and stops to look at the books on Lucas’s desk. Lucas collapses onto the bed, sitting with his back against the wall as he watches him. Eliott laughs a little at the book on the world’s most complex car engines, pausing over the next book.

“The Hidden Reality?” He says disbelievingly, turning the novel over in his hands.

“Yeah,” Lucas responds, his tone far more defensive than he would have liked. “I’m not an idiot.”

“I never said you were,” Eliott replies before seeing to rethink his phrasing. “Ok actually I have on many occasions. But I know you’re intelligent. It’s just that this is a heavy book. It’s not exactly a curl up under the covers on a rainy day kind of book.”

“Who says?” Lucas dismisses with a wave of his hand. “Cuddling under the covers discussing multiple universes… sounds like an excellent use of a rainy day to me.”

Eliott’s eyes rest on him, a gentle quality to them. He smiles. “You’re surprising. You’re always surprising me.”

“Well good.” Lucas pulls his knees towards his chest, wrapping his arms around them and resting his chin on his knees. “I would hate to be boring.”

“You’re anything but that.” Eliott turns back to the books on Lucas’s desk and continues rifling through them. Lucas watches his back, tracing the line of his shoulders, eyes catching on the way Eliott’s muscles press against his shirt, flexing as he moves until suddenly, they freeze. “I thought this was Yann’s,” Eliott says as he turns around to look at Lucas. He’s holding the DVD. _Fuck_.

“Uh… no, yeah. It’s mine.” Lucas couldn’t even say why he decides in that moment to be honest. He could have just lied – said he was borrowing it from Yann. It’s just… tiring to lie all the time. “Yann just, you know… because Charles was being a prick.”

Eliott’s face collapses at the information. “It was yours? The whole time – it was – it was yours?”

“Yeah.” Lucas shifts uncomfortably. “It’s no big deal. I told you it was my favourite movie. Doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots there, Eliott.”

“But I –” Eliott’s face is a perfect picture of upset. “Yann said…” He twists the DVD anxiously in front of him. “He said he watched it with his mom. Was that actually…”

Lucas can’t deal with this conversation right now. Or ever. He hops up from the bed, grabbing the DVD from Eliott and shoving it back between a couple of books. “It’s … whatever, Eliott. Anyway,” he gestures to the room, “I should unpack so.”

Eliott looks around them, at the obvious absence of anything to unpack. “We can watch it now,” he says ignoring Lucas’s previous statement.

“Oh yeah,” Lucas laughs, sarcasm rich in his tone. “On my big screen TV, sure.”

“No. I mean I can get my laptop? Or we could go to the theatre and – and try again?”

No. _No_. That is never happening. Not in a million years.

“Uh. Not really in the mood honestly. I just sort of want to crash.” He really needs Eliott to take the hint.

“But another time? Can we watch it another time? I’m really sorry, Lucas. And I just… I want to watch it. With you.”

“Sure. Whatever.” Anything to just get Eliott to stop talking about it. Lucas turns and flops down onto the bed on his back, bouncing slightly and throwing his arms out in a true sprawl. No room for anyone else.

“Ok. Yeah, I’ll – I’ll just get going?” There’s a definite question mark on the end of Eliott’s sentence that Lucas doesn’t like at all.

Lucas nods and crosses his arms behind his head. Eliott’s eyes flick to his stomach before darting away. He shifts on his feet but makes no move to leave.

“Just because you’re living here now though,” Eliott begins and it’s clear he’s trying very, very hard to seem nonchalant and thus coming across as anything but, “it doesn’t mean you can’t like… hang out at mine?”

“Just knock next time, right?” Lucas asks with a grin and is rewarded by Eliott’s face immediately flushing.

“We’re not talking about that ever again.” Eliott states grumpily.

“Is that right?” This is an excellent change in the direction of their conversation. Lucas approves.

“We’re not. Or thinking about it ever again.”

“I’m definitely thinking about it again.” He bites his lip, enjoying the way Eliott’s eyes immediately drop to it before he catches himself and glances away. “Matter of fact I might just think about it before bed tonight. Then maybe again in the morning. I’ve seen the source material after all.”

“Lucas!” Eliott reprimands clearly flustered. “Don’t talk about it like that.”

“Why?” Lucas grins, tipping his head back a little as though stretching, satisfied when Eliott’s eyes drop to his neck briefly.

“It’s – it’s uncouth,” Eliott stutters, all pompous indignation.

“Ooohhhhh,” Lucas laughs and rests a hand on his chest for a moment before sliding it down until it hooks on the clasp on his pants. Eliott’s eyes track the movement. “ _Uncouth_. Talk dirty to me, baby.”

Eliott’s face reddens even further though Lucas had doubted it was even possible. He looks one second from exploding and Lucas can’t be entirely sure where Eliott is going to direct that eruption. Lucas isn’t sure he wants to find out. Not tonight.

He sits up laughing. “Relax, Princeling. I’m only joking.”

“I know,” Eliott replies defensive. “I’m fine.” Lucas doubts that. He looks like he’s vibrating with the frequency of a thousand suns. “I can take a joke.”

“Oh I’m sure you can _take_ it.” Listen. Lucas can’t help it ok?! The innuendo is just laying there waiting for him to pick it up. He can’t possibly be asked to ignore it. When it’s just prime for the plucking. 

“You are such a fu–” Eliott cuts off his words just in time but Lucas heard the word left unspoken.

“Holy shit, Princeling! Were you actually about to swear? I never thought I’d see the day.” He mimes wiping a tear away. “Now you didn’t quite get there this time. But you will. I have faith. Given a little time–”

“Fuck!” Eliott yells startling Lucas into silence. “You’re such a _fuck_. There. Happy?” His chest is rising and falling rapidly with his agitation, his fists bunched at his sides and body tense, jaw locked.

Fuck. Yeah. _Fuck_. Lucas hadn’t expected that to be so… fucking hot. Jesus why is hearing Eliott say that so fucking hot? There’s never been anything explicitly hot about swearing as far as Lucas is concerned. A well-placed swear in the heat of the moment, sure it adds to the mood. But really, they’re just words, just a regular part of Lucas’s lexicon. Certainly nothing he’s ever really noticed before – nothing he’s ever really paid attention to. Not until Eliott.

Lucas realizes too late that Eliott is watching his reaction with interest now.

“Well done, Princeling,” Lucas says with a forced smile, running a hand through his hair as he stands. He clears his throat. “Anyways, on that colourful note, I’m sure you have things to do so…” He reaches for the door handle, only Eliott moves in front of him, pressing himself against the door and blocking Lucas’s plans to open it.

“What?” Eliott asks grinning and Lucas isn’t so sure he likes the suddenly confident, cheeky smile taking up Eliott’s face. “You gonna pop a boner just hearing me say _fuck_.” He enunciates the word now. Oh no, no, no, Lucas doesn’t like this at all.

“I don’t know where you got the idea I like you this sassy, but I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

“You sound awfully sure about that.”

“I am.”

“Get out of my room.”

Eliott laughs. “Ok, ok. I’m going. So, you know,” he glances down at Lucas’s crotch, “feel free to take care of that situation however you see fit.” He repeats Lucas’s words of that morning with a gleeful sort of air. “Don’t worry,” he adds. “When I visit, I’ll _knock_.”

He turns and with one last saucy look over his shoulder opens the door and walks into the hall. Lucas slams the door behind him and can hear Eliott laughing as he walks away. Lucas turns, pressing his back up against the door before sliding down until he’s slumped in an appropriately defeated position on the floor.

Fuck. Yeah. _Fuck._

* * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter next week - likely on the weekend as I need to catch up! 
> 
> Reminder: Eliott's art is without credit because it's done by me. 
> 
> As an aside - thank you so much to everyone who leaves kudos/comments/tags/messages me/ etc etc... it truly brings me so much joy and I appreciate all of you so incredibly much for taking the time! 
> 
> My tumblr: surrealsunday


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient waiting a little longer than usual for this chapter (a little longer than usual = a week + 1 day ... I'm slacking the hell off). All your sweet and excited messages truly helped me battle through a busy and stressful week and I very much appreciate it! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Chapter heading graphic courtesy of Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr)!

When Lucas gets to the gym after shift, he can hear the music coming from the space before he even turns the corner to enter. And granted it’s not as effectively insulated as the garage, but Lucas knows it’s taking a fairly impressive volume for him to be able to make out the exact song before he even opens the door. Idriss doesn’t notice as Lucas approaches. He’s obviously been there for a while, dripping sweat as he pummels the bag hanging in front of him, totally focused.

“Nas?” Lucas shouts over the song as he moves to turn the volume down.

“Fuck!” Idriss shouts swinging around on Lucas.

“Whoa. Easy there, Rocky,” Lucas laughs, music now at a reasonable decibel level.

“Sorry,” Idriss lowers his gloved hands as he catches his breath.

“Wound a little tight are ya?” Lucas asks with eyebrows raised, walking towards the gear by the bench.

“I slept with Manon.”

Lucas freezes in his tracks. He turns slowly to face Idriss.

“I’m sorry maybe I just blacked out, but I thought you said you slept with Manon.”

Idriss stands, body tense and jaw locked, but he doesn’t deny it.

“You slept with Manon?” Lucas repeats. He’s not quite sure what else to do.

“Yes,” Idriss confirms in one gust of breath. He rips off the boxing gloves and tosses them haphazardly towards the bench.

“Ok,” Lucas hedges, coming to stand in front of Idriss. “When did this happen?”

“The other night. After – after we were all out at the bar.” There’s a desolate quality to Idriss’s stance and tone of voice. Lucas is clearly not supposed to interpret this information as good news.

“So, let me get this straight,” Lucas begins. “After being in love with her for years, you finally get together, _make love_ or whatever other romantic way you’re describing it inside your head, and this is somehow information you need to tell me in the same tone you’d use to give news of a death in the family?”

Idriss exhales heavily, his posture collapsing as he turns to lean against the bag. It swings slightly and he lets himself slide down it until he’s sitting with his legs sprawled out in front of him, shoulders dropping and head heavy. “You _know_ it’s not a good thing. It just makes everything worse.”

“Why can’t it be a good thing?” Lucas asks, following suit and sitting down cross-legged in front of him. Lucas isn’t blind to the complications of Idriss being in love with a Royal Princess, but he also feels this is a fairly enormous overreaction. “Why do you have to let it make everything worse?”

“Because I can’t be casual with her!” He yells flapping a hand in the air. “I want everything with her but she – she can’t give me that.”

“Did she say that?” Lucas doubts it. Last he saw of Manon and Idriss, it was Manon who seemed very sure of what she was doing and exactly what she wanted.

“No, of course not. She’s too kind to say it like that. But we both know it’s true.”

“Idriss…”

“And now I know what it’s like. I know what it’s like to be with her.” Idriss looks pained as he gets lost in the memory. “And now it’s all I can think about. Being with her again.”

“So? Be with her again then. It sounds like she wants it too.” It’s beyond frustrating to watch Idriss agonize over the situation when Lucas can see so clearly how over-complicated he’s making it.

“Are you even listening? Fuck. I can’t,” Idriss insists, voice rising in anger.

“Why? Because if you have sex with her again, you’re bound to propose marriage?” Lucas scoffs.

“You don’t get it.”

“No really. You’re blowing this out of proportion. You want her and she wants you. You need to stop thinking so goddamn far into the future. Just _be_ with her. Now. Be with her now.” It’s that simple. And yeah love always complicates things, but ignoring it sure as hell isn’t going to make it go away. Idriss is just making things a million times more miserable for himself.

“And when a Prince shows up – when _Charles_ shows back up and proposes marriage and she has to accept – then what? I just fade into the background of their lives and watch the person I love be with someone else?” The previous anguish in Idriss’s voice is overpowered by the anger piercing it now.

“The future hasn’t been written, Idriss. Nothing is set in stone. A prince showing up on hi– _her_ doorstep doesn’t mean shit.” So a Prince shows up? So the fuck what, as far as Lucas is concerned. Nobody’s future is a forgone conclusion. Decide to turn left in a hall instead of right and a person’s entire future can change. Lucas is sick of people behaving as though they have no options, no control over their own actions.

Idriss makes a sound of disbelief. “Lucas, that’s how things–”

“No, ok? Fuck that.” Lucas is done – _done_ with this bullshit. “You don’t know what Manon is thinking. She and Eliott – they’re not their mother. They want to change things. They’re going to. I’m sure of it. This bullshit about who they can or can’t be with – marry or whatever the fuck – is just that. Bullshit. Manon should get to decide who she wants to be with, whether it’s just for now or whether she wants you forever. Stop making decisions for her! And yeah, maybe a Prince will land on her doorstep one day and she’ll decide that’s the future she wants. That’s her choice to make. But at least you’ll have had her, if only temporarily. Will it rip your heart out? Probably. But some people spend an entire lifetime without that kind of love, Idriss. And you have it. And you’re going to what – run screaming from it because you’d already decided _for_ Manon exactly how her future is going to go? Fuck that. Just… fuck that!”

Idriss stares at him, eyes wide as silence sits thick between them. He exhales heavily. “Wow.”

Fuck. Lucas really needs to learn not to let all his thoughts come pouring out like that. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s ok. I think I needed to hear that.” Idriss smiles and indeed there seems to be a calmer aura surrounding him now.

“Damn straight you did. You’re being fucking stupid.” Lucas reaches forward to smack his foot.

Idriss laughs. “You’ve gotten some hidden depths, hunh?”

A lightness has returned to the conversation and Lucas welcomes the opportunity for a dirty joke. “Oh I have all kinds of hidden depths. I’d be happy to give you a tour if it doesn’t work out with Manon.”

“Really? That’s where you draw the line? Even for innuendo? The second I might be with someone and suddenly joking about sleeping with me is only ok if that relationship ends?”

“Hey, I’m not about to mess with someone’s happiness or relationship,” Lucas points out quite seriously. “And let’s face it, once you have me, there’s no going back.” Lucas may not be one for regular repeats, but it doesn’t mean men don’t _want_ repeats. He knows what he’s about.

“You know I actually believe that,” Idriss laughs.

“Why Idriss, that actually sounded sincere. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen victim to my spell? It’s a real thing you know. I believe they call it being _dickmatized_.” Lucas knows the power of good dick, ok? And he gives good dick. Sue him.

“Traumatized more like,” Idriss snarks. “But if Eliott is anything to go by, I guess I can’t argue.”

Eliott? Lucas feels a cold sweat break out on his back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me.” Idriss is watching him carefully.

“Subtlety isn’t either of our strength, Idriss. Say what you mean.”

“What’s going on with you two?”

“He’s your best friend. Ask him.”

“I will.”

“And while you’re at it, _talk_ to Manon,” Lucas says, swinging the topic back in a less Lucas-focused direction. “I’m guessing you’ve been avoiding her since that blissful night when two became one?” Idriss rolls his eyes but his face confirms as much. “That’s a shitty thing to do to her, man.”

“I know.” With a deep sigh, he stands.

Lucas does the same. “Spar?”

“Naw,” Idriss shakes his head as he smiles at Lucas and rids himself of the wraps on his hands. “I think I might just go take your advice.”

“Right now? Damn. Alright then.” Lucas smiles, suitably impressed.

“We can train tomorrow, yeah?”

Lucas laughs. “I doubt I’m going to see you for the rest of the week but sure, let’s save face and say we’ll train tomorrow.”

Idriss shoves his shoulder as he makes his way towards the door. “And hey,” Idriss calls back, “you know you can always talk to me too, yeah? He might be my best friend but you’re my friend too."

“Don’t go getting all soft on me now, Idriss. You’ll make me cry.”

“Dumbass.”

“Now go get laid! Keep that heart soft but that dick hard. It’s what she deserves.” 

“Fuck off!”

* * * *

* * * *

In the least shocking turn of events, Lucas is right and Idriss doesn’t show up for training for the next few days. Lucas doesn’t mind in the least. He can’t think of two people who deserve a chance to work up their pent-up desire for one another more than Manon and Idriss. In fact, Lucas sees Manon before he sees Idriss, and it’s only because she seeks him out.

“Suddenly I can understand Eliott’s newly inspired interest in boxing,” her voice calls from the door to the gym as Lucas pounds the bag in front of him.

Working out alone the last few days has allowed Lucas to take liberties he likely wouldn’t have when training with Idriss. He currently wears no more than his training shorts. He’d begun in proper workout attire and then quickly stripped once he’d realized there was no need – no scandalized Idriss or Eliott to tell him to put his shirt back on. He’s chosen to work on combat and agility techniques today and is training with bare hands and feet. He turns to grin at Manon.

“You saying it does nothing for you?”

She giggles as she makes a show of appraising him. “I’m not _not_ saying that, but let’s keep that between us.”

“No telling Idriss then?” Lucas hedges.

She blushes and tucks loose pieces of hair behind her ears as she tips her head down before looking back up at him. “No. No telling Idriss.”

“Our little secret then,” Lucas responds happily. “I must say Princess, you’re looking well fucked.” She is. She’s got a glow about her, and her hair is a delightful mess, pulled back haphazardly up on her head. She’s wearing an over-sized shirt Lucas would put money on being Idriss’s. In short, she looks nothing like the well-coiffed and controlled Princess he is used to seeing and he couldn’t be happier for her. 

She bursts into laughter, blushing in a way that reminds Lucas viscerally of her brother. “I can’t believe you just said that,” she manages between giggles. “You are the only person I know who would dare say that to me.”

“Oh sorry, my bad,” Lucas responds, smirking. “You’re looking well fucked, _Your Royal Highness._ ”

She shakes her head smiling. “Well that’s in part why I’m here. I wanted to thank you.”

Lucas eyebrows climb his forehead in surprise. “A woman thanking me for her fucked-out state? Well that’s a first.”

“God,” she laughs. “I don’t understand how Eliott puts up with you.”

Lucas grins, pleased. “I’m pretty good at wearing people down until they give up and just accept me as a permanent state.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s it,” she remarks with a knowing smile. “But I mean it. Thank you. For whatever you said to Idriss.”

“He didn’t relay my pearls of wisdom?” Lucas asks a little surprised.

“He mentioned he spoke to you and it made him rethink a few things and then we were, um,” she bites her lip as her eyes drop bashfully, “a little distracted.”

Lucas laughs. “Yeah I can imagine. You’re remembering to hydrate right? Replacing lost liquids? Refueling and all? Keeping that energy up?”

“Oh my god, stop,” she laughs. “Can you just let me say thank you without giving me a blush that will take a week to fade?”

“You’re welcome, Princess,” Lucas gives in, smiling gently. “I’m really happy for you both.”

She nods and turns to leave.

“Manon?” Lucas can’t help but call out, causing her to turn back around to look at him in inquiry. “You’re in this though, right? With Idriss?” Her eyebrows crease in confusion and he further clarifies, “I don’t say this to offend. I just need to know. You’re not just with him until your Prince shows up, are you? Like, I know that’s the expectation – of your mother at least – but the plan isn’t to bail the second reality comes crashing back in and some shiny, perfect Prince is placed in front of you, is it?”

She stares at him, her expression blank and Lucas worries for a moment perhaps he’s gone too far and she’s about to tell him off. He knows he’s crossed the bounds of propriety with her and he wouldn’t be surprised if she just outright told him to get bent. Instead, when she speaks her tone is gentle and kind. “No. That’s not my plan, no.” She sighs deeply. “Lucas, the choices Eliott and I have to make, they’re not always our own.”

“I know that,” Lucas replies shifting uncomfortably.

“But we’re trying to change that,” she continues. “I want Idriss. I’ve always wanted Idriss.”

“You have?” Lucas didn’t doubt Manon had feelings for Idriss, but he had to admit he’s a little surprised it’s been mutual for so long.

“Yes,” she smiles. “Has he told you how we met?”

Lucas shakes his head. “I assumed when he started here.”

Manon nods. “Yes… but not in the most typical way.” She smiles, eyes dropping to the floor as she remembers. “He was hired because of Eliott – because he and Eliott hit it off. I didn’t meet him beforehand. He was young and far less experienced than other candidates. That’s probably why Eliott liked him. Before Idriss, Eliott didn’t have a lot of friends. Those who would have called themselves friends did so as though friendship with a Prince was a prize to be claimed. A trophy for their shelf. Idriss was different. He wasn’t my mother’s first choice. Not her second or third choice either. But she understood he was something Eliott needed. And they were instantly inseparable.” She laughs a little. “But _I_ met him when he caught me sneaking out.”

Lucas chuckles. “That sounds familiar.”

Manon raises her eyes to him, tipping her head slightly in acknowledgement. “Yes, well back then I took perhaps a few too many risks. I was sneaking out without any guard and with absolutely no idea as to where I was going. I’d fought with my mother and I was determined I’d…” She sighs with a bit of a laugh. “I don’t even know. Go hand out money on the street? Randomly offer my assistance to anyone who looked in need?”

Lucas raises an eyebrow at that. “Are you kidding?”

“I know,” Manon shakes her head as though acknowledging her own foolishness. “I had no idea how to even begin _helping_. We weren’t exactly raised in a way that afforded us the opportunity. Anyways, I quite literally ran into Idriss as he was walking the property. I didn’t realize who he was. I assumed security, but I didn’t realize he was _my_ security.”

“Mmm,” Lucas acknowledges. “I suppose he couldn’t really be confused for anything else.”

“No,” Manon agrees with a slight smile. “And he just stood there – the most beautiful man I’d ever seen – looking just as shocked to see me as I was him.”

“So, love at first sight?” Lucas asks, thoroughly charmed by the sweet image of them meeting for the first time.

“Attraction at first sight, certainly,” Manon admits. “But I was sneaking out and full of pompous indignation at the thought I’d been caught.”

Lucas snorts. “Pompous indignation? You?”

“It’s a family trait unfortunately.” Her mouth pulls up in a wry smile. “Anyways, I don’t think he said a word. I just blurted it all out. My whole plan. How he couldn’t stop me and – _god._ ” She presses a hand to her face in embarrassment. “I think I even said something about _feeding the lowly and indigent_.”

“Jesus.” Lucas cringes. “You learn about the world from a Charles Dickens novel, or what?”

She shrugs. “I mean, basically, yeah. It’s not just Eliott who was sheltered from the realities of the world. All I knew is I wanted to make a difference and I’d be damned if some – albeit ridiculously hot – guy was going to stop me.”

Lucas laughs. “And did he try?”

“No.” She smiles, her cheeks flushing beautifully pink. “That’s the thing. I went on this tirade. I don’t think I even introduced myself. I never gave him the opportunity to introduce _himself_ … and all he said was ‘well I suppose we should start at the food bank then’.”

“He took you himself?” Lucas can’t say he’s particularly surprised Idriss has been a complete sucker for Manon’s demands from day-one. In fact, that is the least surprising part of this story.

She nods. “I’d never had that before. That unequivocal support. I mean, from someone aside from Eliott. That belief Idriss had, without even truly knowing me, that I was capable. He took me at my word and just… let me become who I wanted to be, who I had potential to be.”

“Sounds like a pretty incredible guy,” Lucas acknowledges with a smile.

“He is.” She smiles, looking confident and certain. “And Lucas, I have no intention of giving him up now that I have him.”

Lucas returns her smile. “Good.” He let’s the silence and certainty rest between them for a moment before adding, “Because you know I’m moving in on him if you leave him brokenhearted.”

She laughs shaking her head. “We both know you’d never.”

He shrugs rolling his eyes. “Good thing it’ll never be a reality, hunh?”

“Yes, good thing,” she agrees. “And Lucas?” He nods. “It’s the same for Eliott.”

“Aw no, Princess,” he responds, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “He’d never move in on Idriss like that. It’s only me you have to worry about.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” She shakes her head, smiling. “I mean that Eliott is trying just as hard to control his future, to make it his own.”

Lucas knows that. The thought shapes in his head, a beautiful face with dark curls, a sharp jawline, and plush lips. “I know.”

“I’m willing to fight for me and Idriss. Eliott doesn’t…” She trails off for a moment as her eyes meet Lucas’s. “Eliott doesn’t know if he has something to fight for.”

_What is that supposed to mean?_

“You mean Niccolò?”

“No.” She stares at him and lets silent sit rich between them for a moment before she continues. “I don’t mean Niccolò.”

Blood rushes to Lucas’s ears. She smiles at him softly and turns, the gym door swinging shut behind her.

* * * *

Lucas is sprawled flat on the mat an hour or two later when the door to the gym swings open once more. Idriss’s music still plays over the speakers softly, the deep beat a gentle vibration running through Lucas's body. It's Beyoncé. Not what Lucas would have expected of a playlist by Idriss but he's not complaining. _I know if I'm haunting you, you must be haunting me._ Lucas can’t say exactly how long he’s been like this. After his conversation with Manon he’d returned to training with a renewed burst of energy. He’d even decided to do some core work, something he rarely ever made an effort to do. And after many, many (ok maybe not that many but as far as his brain was concerned, _too many_ ) crunches he’d sprawled himself flat on the mat and hadn’t moved since.

He tilts his head sideways and watches as Eliott walks towards him.

“What are you doing?” Eliott asks, smiling gently down at him.

“Playing football.”

Eliott snorts and his eyes skitter down Lucas’s body before returning to his face. “You might need shoes for that.”

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Lucas comments, uninterested in continuing this particular banter. He hasn’t seen Eliott since he came to see Lucas’s room. And it’s not like Lucas has any expectations that he’ll see Eliott regularly or anything. It’s only that he _has_ normally seen Eliott regularly and it’s just a little strange when he breaks routine.

“Yeah, I know.” Eliott sighs. “Nico arrives next week, and my mother has me busy with a million things in preparation. Everything has to be perfect as far as she’s concerned. It's a pretty significant event, a new beginning to our relationship with Italy, and I’m a bit of a loose cannon.”

“I would have thought she’d want to keep you away from him,” Lucas comments curiously.

Eliott shrugs uncomfortably. “She doesn’t know he’s…”

“Who you’re planning to bone?” Lucas finishes for him.

“I’m not planning to … _bone_ him,” Eliott insists annoyed.

“No?”

“No.”

“Just get him to fall in love with you and propose marriage then?” Lucas challenges.

Eliott frowns. “What do you care?”

“I don’t.”

“No?”

Lucas shakes his head. “I’m going to help you seduce him, remember?”

Eliott doesn’t look as amused by the suggestion as he was the first time Lucas had made it. “I don’t need help.”

“Hmmm,” Lucas hums. He moves his arms to stretch them above him on the mat, closing his eyes and arching his back a little as he does so with a satisfied groan. When he opens his eyes, Eliott’s are on his bared abs, mouth parted. “No, I guess you’ve got your own moves, don’t you?” Lucas mocks.

Eliott’s mouth snaps shut at Lucas’s words and he meets Lucas’s eyes with a scowl. “I have moves!”

“Sure.” Lucas grins, crossing his arms behind his head in a way he knows makes his biceps bulge. “I’ve been the target of them, remember? They consisted of pulling me away from a good lay and stuttering something about wanting me.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Eliott challenges, voice sullen.

“Once. It worked once. When I was horny.” Lucas watches the veins of Eliott’s neck protrude as he clenches his jaw. He traces them down to where they disappear in the V of Eliott’s collared button-up shirt.

“Well I’m sure it will work on _Nico_.” He emphasizes the name as though he’s aware of the way it cuts into Lucas. “Besides, I didn’t even touch _you_.”

“So what? You plan on _touching_ him?” Lucas asks, grinding his teeth together in aggravation.

Eliott shrugs carelessly. “If I did, it would work.”

Lucas swings a foot out, catching Eliott behind the legs and sending him toppling awkwardly to his knees with a startled cry. Lucas moves quickly, shoving him onto his back and straddling him, sitting himself down directly on Eliott’s crotch and pinning his hands down by his shoulders. He lets his body weight press Eliott down into the mat. “How are you gonna touch him? Gonna use those moves of yours?” Rocking his hips just slightly, Lucas revels in the way it makes Eliott’s breath stutter. He spreads his legs a little wider, letting their bodies sink more deeply into one another. It shouldn’t feel this good. But it does. It’s feels like relief. As though he’s been waiting days for just this… just the press of them together through layers of cotton. And he hadn’t been aware of it – his own desperation. Not until this moment. “Gonna use them on him?” The thin material of his briefs and training shorts does nothing to hide the way his own body is reacting to their proximity. He watches as Eliott swallows, eyes flicking down Lucas’s body before returning to his face. “You just going to reach right into his pants?” Eliott’s mouth falls open. He doesn’t fight Lucas’s hold, still beneath the subtle motion of Lucas’s hips. “Get him hard? Jerk him off? Make him come in your hand?” Eliott’s breath starts to come in short gasps and Lucas rocks on him a little more purposefully. “Bet he’d like that.” Eliott’s hard now beneath his ass, thick and obvious. And _god_ it feels good. Lucas shifts slightly, rocking until the heat of Eliott’s cock sinks into the cleft of his ass. He groans a little at the feeling, eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before he’s able to refocus, staring down at Eliott beneath him. “Or would you move against him like this?” Lucas grinds down, right against the hard length of Eliott’s cock, and he’s rewarded by a guttural groan from Eliott. “Just dry hump one another like sixteen-year-olds until you come in your pants?”

Lucas is being flipped before he’s even aware Eliott has overpowered his hold. One moment he’s sitting astride Eliott’s hips, grip tight around Eliott’s wrists, the next he’s being rolled onto his back, Eliott strong and determined above him. Lucas can’t help but go willingly pliant as he’s pinned by his wrists above his head. Eliott positions himself between Lucas’s legs with their hips lined up, but he leaves an excruciating distance, not yet pressing them together. His breath is hot on Lucas’s face. “Maybe I’ll get down on my knees for him,” Eliott pants. “Give him my mouth.” Lucas’s eyes drop to Eliott’s lips and _fuck_ , he’s so goddamn hard he’s going to lose his mind if Eliott doesn’t give him some relief. “I’d suck him off until he couldn’t help himself – had to come. Let him come in my mouth, on my face.”

“Eliott.” There’s a definite whine to the quality of Lucas’s voice and he’d be embarrassed if he weren’t so fucking desperate.

“What? Lucas. _What_?” Eliott demands above him. He shifts a little, erection hard and obvious where it strains against his pants but refuses to connect their lower bodies. He’s doing it to torture Lucas. The word comes out unbidden anyways.

“ _Please_. Eliott.”

Eliott licks his lips, eyes tracing the lines of Lucas’s face. His mouth pulls up at one corner. “Say it again.”

Lucas scrunches his nose. “No.” He moves his legs to wrap around Eliott, pulling him down until they’re pressed together. They both moan at the contact.

“God,” Eliott pants. “It always feels so good with you.”

 _With you_. You. He’s not talking to anyone but Lucas. But that’s going to change. Soon. Next week.

“What if he wants to fuck you?” Lucas pants as Eliott begins rocking against him. The seam of his zipper is grinding against Lucas _just right_. God Lucas feels like his skin is too tight. Like he’s going to burst from all the want. It fills him to overflowing. “Would you let him? Let him put his cock in you?”

“No,” Eliott shakes his head, his eyes closing as the pace of his hips increases. “No. I wouldn’t. Not him.” He opens his eyes and grinds down harder now, in movements closer resembling thrusts. It draws another moan from Lucas. Eyes shutting, he throws his head back and gives himself to the feeling. “ _God_ ,” Eliott groans as he drives down against Lucas. “The way you look.” Lucas is going to come. He’s going to come as Eliott moves against him. He can feel the sensation rising to the surface, unstoppable, as inevitable as the blood rushing through his veins.

“Fuck. Eliott.” He grinds his hips in time with Eliott’s thrusts, pushing up against him as they move in time with one another. “You’re going to make me come.”

“Lucas, Lucas,” Eliott chants, his eyes squeezing shut and mouth dropping open as he chases his orgasm.

A loud noise is suddenly heard outside the gym followed by the sound of voices. Eliott jerks up and away, falling sideways off Lucas in his surprise. They both lay frozen on their backs on the mat, gasping for air, erections obvious where they strain against the material of their clothing. It takes another few minutes before Lucas’s brain begins to function and he can recognize the voices. Chloe is one. The other he’s not as sure. Possibly another of the housekeepers he’s less familiar with. Their voices don’t fade, remaining directly outside the door.

He turns his head to Eliott. “It’s Chloe.” He whispers though he’s fairly certain they wouldn’t be able to easily hear Eliott and Lucas anyways. “She might be looking for me.” He can’t be sure that’s actually the case but it’s likely as she knows he trains after work and he’s remained here long after he’d normally have made his way back to their rooms.

Eliott nods, frowning down at where he remains hard in his pants. The material of them provide better camouflage than Lucas’s loose shorts, but his desperate state remains obvious. Lucas watches with heavy lids as Eliott reaches into his pants to adjust himself, sucking in a sharp breath as he does so. He stands awkwardly and Lucas does the same. Eliott’s eyes drop to where Lucas’s erection stretches the front of his shorts, and he swallows audibly, the look in his eyes doing nothing to help the way Lucas still feels one touch from tipping over the precipice.

“I should go,” Eliott says, voice like gravel.

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees. He reaches for the shirt he’d discarded earlier, tossing it at Eliott. “You can use that to, uh…” He motions at Eliott’s crotch until Eliott gets the message and lowers the shirt to block the view.

“Thanks.” Eliott licks his lips and his gaze drop to Lucas’s shorts once more before he shuts his eyes, squeezing them as though agonized before turning to go. Lucas only waits until Eliott reaches the door before he rushes towards the single bathroom. He locks himself in, hand shaking, and turns to face the mirror, pulling his shorts down just enough to free his erection. Leaning with one hand against the edge of the counter, he spits in his other and wraps it roughly around his cock. It only takes a few harsh pulls before he’s curling forward and shaking with his orgasm. He jerks himself through it, grunting as he shoots again and again into the sink. It shouldn’t feel this good – not when he’s standing alone in a bathroom with his own hand providing his pleasure. But it does. It leaves him shaking with aftershocks and gasping for air. He turns on the tap and leans down, splashing the cold water onto his face and the back of his neck. God why does it have to be so good with Eliott? Lucas could deal with this – whatever _this_ is – if it just didn’t feel this fucking good.

He hears someone outside the door, moving around in the gym and he stares guiltily down at the mess he’s made of the sink… and a little bit of the counter now that he’s looking. Shit. He hurriedly grabs for toilet paper, turning on the tap and cleaning the space until he’s satisfied he won’t have to feel forever guilty about whoever has to clean it next. Lucas inspects himself with one last look in the mirror and while he looks a mess, he can easily pass it off as the result of his training. When he leaves the washroom, he’s not surprised to see Chloe standing in the gym, punching halfheartedly at the boxing bag.

“You’re not gonna get anywhere with form like that,” Lucas comments as she turns to smile at him. “You want to learn, I’d be happy to teach you.”

“Eh,” she dismisses with a wave of the hand. “Not my thing.”

“Not even with a specimen like me to teach you?” He gestures down his body, flexing his abs a little for effect.

She giggles. “Also not my thing.”

“Because it’s me or…” He lets the question go unspoken, hoping she’ll pick up the thread.

She looks at him for a second, pursing her lips before she smiles again. “Men aren’t my thing.” Her smile turns shy as she looks away from him. “My – my girlfriend is mostly my thing.”

“Yeah,” Lucas grins. “I know.”

Her eyes fly back to him in surprise. “You know? Know like… knew I was into women, or know like…”

“I know about Lucille,” he admits, laughing at the way her jaw drops.

“You dingus!” She yells reaching for one of the blocking pads left on the bench and throwing it at him. “How could you not tell me you knew?!”

“Thought I’d let you tell me, _dingus_ ,” he snorts tossing the pad back at her.

She giggles and moves towards him, shoving at his shoulders. “How long have you known?”

“Not long. Long enough to be proud of my girl, though.” He reaches forward to ruffle her hair and she squeaks in irritation, slapping his hand away. “Way to land yourself a serious hottie. Lucille is…” He mimes touching Chloe’s skin and getting burned.

She laughs. “Yeah, she’s…” her blush deepens, “she’s really amazing.”

“C’mon. Let’s go steal cookies from Yann’s stash he thinks I don’t know about and then we can have that long awaited cuddle session where we braid one another’s hair and you tell me all about her.”

She smiles excitedly. “Ok!”

“I promise I’ll only gag a little when you tell me how good she is with her tongue.” He swings an arm around her shoulders and directs them towards the door.

“Ugh! You’re sweaty and disgusting!” She cries pushing him off.

“Yes, well that happens when you workout.”

“And I’m not telling you those things. It’s private!”

“Oh thank god,” he exhales, exaggerating his relief. “But I can still tell you about the one time I was going down on a guy and he triggered my gag reflex and I almost vomited right on his dick, right?”

“Oh my god!” She yells as she leads the way into the hall. She covers her ears and jogs away from him.

“That wasn’t a no!” He yells and follows laughing.

* * * *

Lucas isn’t surprised it’s easy to convince Eliott. He knows all it took was that one visit for Eliott to become just as much a sucker for the kids at the shelter as Lucas has always been. It’s just that… they haven’t seen one another since the gym incident. That’s what it’s become in Lucas’s head. An _incident_. He can’t think of it any other way or his head will explode. And it’s not that he expects they won’t be able to sink right back into their usual banter and comfort with one another. It’s just that it feels _unfinished_. In fact, it _was,_ whether Lucas found his own relief cock-in-hand or not. It feels like the moment a glass has been filled just a titch too full and the liquid rests on the edge, ballooning out, held only by surface tension, liable to break at any moment. Either someone takes a sip, or the liquid eventually gives to gravity and spills down the side of the glass. Lucas isn’t sure what either option would mean. In both scenarios, liquid is lost from the glass.

He’s resting against the hood of the Shelby, drumming his fingers anxiously against the surface when Eliott walks into the garage.

“Holy s – wow,” he says as he looks at the state of the cars surrounding Lucas.

Lucas smiles proudly. He’s still waiting on a few parts for the Shelby and Chevy but they’ll both be ready for the Ball. He has yet to decide on the other two cars to accompany them but there’s no doubt, the work he’s done on these two – his babies – is fairly spectacular. He’d spent all day working on the superficial details and they both gleam with a fresh coat of polish. Each of the selected cars will get another coat before the ball but Lucas needed them shining to be able to spot any imperfections and correct them beforehand. The point being, they look incredible and he’s beyond pleased to see the awed appreciation on Eliott’s face.

“Not bad, eh?” Lucas pushes off the hood and turns to look at the cars as Eliott comes to stand beside him.

“They’re really beautiful,” Eliott admits.

“Thanks, Princeling.” Lucas's smile stretches stupidly across his face, but he can’t be bothered to dim it. 

“You do incredible work,” Eliott adds, gaze heavy on the side of Lucas’s face.

“Eh.” Lucas moves a little away from Eliott, tapping at the car’s tire with the tip of his shoe. “It’s just a little polish making it look more impressive than it is.”

“No,” Eliott insists, turning fully towards Lucas now. “Not just that. Like – the way you work on the inside stuff too and –”

“Inside stuff?” Lucas laughs, looking up to meet Eliott’s eyes.

“Lucas,” Eliott chides, not at all managing to come across as the least bit irritated, “you know what I mean. Everything you do to make them run or keep them in good condition or whatever. I was thinking about it the other day and I guess I realized it’s like your own form of art.”

“Art?” Lucas asks, genuinely surprised.

“Yeah,” Eliott continues, smiling softly. “Like I draw or paint when I need to relax or get out of my own head. You turn these broken shells into something new and beautiful again. It’s art. And just because it’s cars and maybe not thought of the same way – or appreciated the same way – it doesn’t make it any less beautiful. Or important. Especially not when it makes you happy. Kind of like how art does for me.”

Lucas wants to push him up against the hood of the car and kiss him. He’s never wanted anything more. He won’t. He can’t. It’s intimacy neither of them need. It would mean something Lucas can’t mean. He _can’t_. And neither can Eliott. But _god._ He really, really wants to.

Eliott’s staring at him looking a little uncertain and Lucas realizes he’s been standing, staring back without saying anything for what is likely an uncomfortable amount of time. He shakes himself out of it, tipping his head and ruffling his hair slightly to buy himself some time.

“Like the drawings above your bed you mean?” Ok… so it wasn’t the thank you he’d intended but it’ll do.

Eliott looks surprised by the question but with one last curious look he seems to accept Lucas’s desire to direct the conversation elsewhere. “Yeah.” He shrugs, scrunching his shoulders to his ears with a sweet smile. “You noticed them?”

“Of course, Princeling. That was some quality work.”

“Naw,” Eliott denies with an easy smile. “Those are just little doodles and they’re old. I hadn’t drawn in a while actually. But I am again. I draw – and paint – better now.”

“Yeah? Got a young da Vinci on our hands do we?”

Eliott laughs. “No. I told you I’m not that good. I just do it for fun, to relax or when I’m inspired. It just… calms me.” A wrinkle suddenly appears between Eliott’s eyebrows. “What do you know about Leonardo da Vinci anyways?”

Lucas shrugs. “Not much. Know he could draw. And he was like an artist and inventor or some shit, right?”

Eliott lights up, smile spreading across his face. “Yeah. That’s right. You know he never even received formal schooling?”

Lucas shakes his head, trying unsuccessfully to hide how charmed he is by how obviously excited Eliott is to share his knowledge. “I did not know that, no.”

Eliott nods eagerly. “And despite that, he did drawings of like… helicopters and tanks and planes.”

“Damn,” Lucas acknowledges with a raise of his eyebrows. “Man ahead of his time.”

“In many ways,” Eliott agrees. “Many scholars believe he was gay, too.”

“Shit, really? Like… five hundred years ago? That couldn’t have been easy.”

“No. He was arrested and nearly executed. He disappeared for a few years because of it.”

“Damn,” Lucas exhales with a slight smile. “Makes my coming out sound peachy in comparison.”

“Such a brilliant mind and artist reduced to the fact that he might have had sex with men.” Eliott shakes his head, looking so distinctly like some sort of burdened scholar imparting an art history lesson, Lucas can’t help but smile.

“Know a whole lot about the guy for someone claiming not to be following in his footsteps.”

Eliott shrugs, cheeky smile pulling at his mouth. “Well, I admit I also appreciate the merits of sex with men. I’d like to think I’ll avoid the same fate however.”

Lucas hadn’t even meant it like that. He can feel the tips of his ears heat, blood rushing to the extremity. God, he needs to stop letting Eliott take him so entirely by surprise. There’s an uncharacteristic stutter in his voice when he speaks. “I meant the uh – the drawing.”

“I know.” Eliott smiles, clearly enjoying having surprised Lucas. “But it’s like I said, the drawing or painting for me isn’t so serious. It’s… a way to express myself that is _just_ mine. Nothing that can be taken from me.”

“Yeah.” Lucas smiles, letting the tension seep from his shoulders. “I get it. It’s how I feel when I work on the cars. I mean, I haven’t always been able to. Haven’t had a collection like this at my fingertips.” He gestures to the cars surrounding them. “But it’s always been there. The knowledge. The skill. That I can do it. Transform a hollow shell back to its proper glory.” He pauses, hand skimming across the hood of the Shelby before he looks back at Eliott. “Guess you’re right. Better add artist to the CV.”

“Why?” Eliott scoffs. “You have no need for a CV. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Oh no?” Lucas laughs. He pushes by Eliott with an affectionate knock to his shoulder and begins walking towards the Jag.

“No,” Eliott states, matter of fact as he follows. “You’re not allowed.”

Lucas snorts, opening the car door and looking across the roof at Eliott. It’s only then he notices the backpack Eliott is carrying. “Wait – what’s that?”

Eliott looks down at the bag he was just in the process of throwing into the backseat of the car. “Snacks?” He looks back up, brows scrunched in confusion as though it’s Lucas asking silly questions. “It’s a movie night.” He lifts one shoulder in semblance of a shrug. “And they’re teens. I figured we’d need the works. Candy, chocolate, popcorn, juice boxes… the works.”

“Fuck,” Lucas shakes his head in exasperation. “You really are going to be the favourite. They’re going to pass me over for you, I just know it.”

Eliott smiles pleased. “They don’t have to. They can have us both.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

They get into the car, buckling themselves in before Lucas turns to Eliott. “Did you say juice boxes? You understand they’re teens, not five-year-olds?”

Eliott smiles, unconcerned. “Everyone likes a juice box.”

“Right, well,” Lucas turns to start the car, hitting the button for the garage door, “being the expert you are on the likes and dislikes of mercurial teenagers…”

“I mean if I can handle you…”

“Oh. Alright. So, Princeling is out, sasspup is in.”

Eliott snickers. “It takes a certain level of sass to deal with the likes of you.”

“You’re blaming _me_ for this sass problem of yours now?!”

“Well, Idriss definitely blames you.”

“Really?” Lucas smiles to himself as he puts the car in gear.

“Don’t look all smug,” Eliott scoffs. “You don’t get total credit. You just bring it out in me.”

“Bring out the best in you, you mean,” Lucas suggests with a wink as he turns to back the car out of the garage.

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees softly. “That’s what I mean.”

* * * *

“Grape juice?! Hell yes!!!”

Eliott looks up from where he’s spreading the snacks and drinks on the coffee table and grins smugly at Lucas as the kids dive into the stash, each of them turning to beam at Eliott and thank him profusely. They’re never that nice when Lucas brings them things. He can’t say he blames them though. Eliott thought of everything and how is Lucas supposed to compete with a beautiful Prince who brings them an endless supply of movie treats? He doesn’t even _want_ to compete with that. The kids are so thrilled and Eliott’s entire face glows with the pleasure of making them happy. They’re all just stupid and adorable and Lucas can’t deal with cuteness of it all. He covertly snaps a picture and quickly looks away. There are only a few kids spread about the room, but Lucas could maybe admit under duress that he’s touched they want to spend the evening with him. And Eliott. He can't blame them for that bit either. 

Alexia suddenly sprawls herself across his lap as she reaches for a share of the loot.

“Oy!” He protests. “Get off me you brat!”

“ _Get off me you brat_ ,” she mimics, not moving an inch but digging her elbow into his thigh.

“You think I won’t, but I will,” he threatens.

“ _You think I won’t, but I will_.”

“That’s it!” He pushes her up enough to lock her into solid noogy-receiving positioning.

She shrieks wildly and he’s only able to grind his knuckles into her head for a split second before she’s leaning down and biting his thigh. The _brat_. He renews his attack with extra vigor.

“Are they always like this?” He hears Eliott ask.

“Pretty much,” one of the kids answers unconcerned.

It only ends when Alexia is able to get enough leverage to reach for Lucas’s hair that he retreats.

“No!” He yells, kicking her away. “Mercy! Mercy! Not the hair!”

She snorts but backs off. “Loser.”

“Bigger loser,” he grumbles in return.

“I don’t know why I’m so nice to you.”

He makes a high-pitched squeak of disbelief before he can help it. “Nice to me?!”

“Yes.” She sniffs. “We’re even watching your favourite movie. And this is what I get…”

A sudden chill runs down Lucas’s spine. “My favourite movie?”

“Yes, you ungrateful little brat.”

“What movie?”

Alexia looks over at him from where she was rooting through the selection of juice boxes. “What? Why are you being so freaking weird? The Princess Bride. What else?”

Lucas’s eyes flick involuntarily to Eliott who’s already looking back. Lucas looks away, back to Alexia. “But the kids have seen it before.”

“Yeah, we know,” Adam, the younger boy scoffs.

“Hush,” Alexia admonishes. She looks back at Lucas, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Since when do you protest watching it? They wanted to do something nice for you.” Adam opens his mouth to protest but a scathing look from Alexia has him snapping it shut. “What’s up with you?”

Lucas shrugs. He needs to stop making a big deal out of this. It’ll make things even more uncomfortable than they are already.

“Nothing. But I want blankets.” He pouts miserably at Alexia who sighs deeply in response.

“Fine. But only because I have to go yell at Em to get her butt out here already.”

“What is she taking so long for anyways?” Lucas asks.

Alexia smirks and with a quick glance at Eliott to see that he’s listening with interest as well, she whispers to the two of them. “She wanted to shower and look _extra_ pretty, I think. She even asked one of the older girls to take her shopping for new makeup.”

“Oh Christ,” Lucas groans unhappily.

Alexia snickers and goes to retrieve blankets and the love-struck girl in question.

“What?” Eliott asks taking Alexia’s place next to Lucas on the couch.

“She’s got a crush.”

“Oh.” Eliott nods, wisely. “On you?”

“What?” Lucas wrinkles his nose as he looks over at Eliott wondering how someone so intelligent can be so adorably dumb. “No. _You_ , idiot.” 

“Me?” Eliott asks eyes wide and confused.

Lucas would have a few more choice insults for him, but Alexia chooses that moment to walk back in and dump the blanket over his head. “Brat!” He yells from beneath it and he pulls it down to stare up at her grumpily, his hair flopping forward on his forehead. He’s quickly distracted by the sight of Emily standing behind Alexia, biting her lip nervously and very obviously staring at Eliott. Lucas just barely muffles a laugh and shares an amused look with Alexia.

“Ems,” Lucas greets with a smug smile. “You’re looking extra lovely this evening.”

She rolls her eyes and offers Lucas only a cursory glance and “shut up” before she looks back to Eliott. “Hi Eliott.” She smiles and she instantly looks her age. It makes Lucas’s heart suddenly ache. She looks young. Like a kid with a crush. As simple as that. Lucas doubts she’s had a lot of time in her life to have a chance to be this, just a kid whose biggest concern was how to look pretty for the totally unattainable object of her affection.

“Hi Emily,” Eliott smiles kindly and Lucas can see the hearts burst from Emily’s eyes at the sight. Ok he’s back to finding this hilarious. “Thank you so much for inviting me to join all of you this evening,” Eliott continues, ever the well-mannered gentleman. Lucas has to say, Em could have picked someone much worse for a first serious crush.

“Ok, Em, find a spot,” Alexia butts in, voice barely restraining her laughter. “Let’s start this movie already.”

“Finally!” Adam calls from where he’s sprawled on the ground, an open tray of cookies spread on his stomach.

“Pipe down.” Alexia ruffles his hair as she grabs the remotes and sits down on the chair behind him. “We both know you’re only here for the snacks.”

“Um,” Emily speaks, smile still directed at Eliott. “Could I sit with you?” She moves before he’s answered, squeezing between he and Lucas.

Lucas doesn’t even bother to hold back his eye roll. She’s not looking at him anyways.

“Oh, uh, sure.” Eliott squeaks, shifting further away on the couch to allow her more room. He sends a desperate look Lucas’s way but well… Lucas is having way too much fun enjoying Eliott’s discomfort to do anything about it. Emily’s entirely harmless anyways. Or… she’s entirely harmless in _this_ context. As it is, she’s sitting stiff as a board, obviously unnerved by her own courage at choosing to sit so close to Eliott. How Lucas’s movie night became this he doesn’t know but he’s going to enjoy everyone’s discomfort anyways. He pulls his feet up on to the couch, shoving them beneath Emily’s legs.

“What are you doing, dweeb?!” She yells, pushing ineffectively at his legs. “Get your gross feet away from me.”

“My feet are not gross!” He protests. “And they’re cold.” He hears Eliott snort from the other end of the couch and kindly chooses to ignore him.

Emily groans, all teenage angst and irritation, but she doesn’t fight him any further, settling back with arms crossed, her annoyance with Lucas having relaxed her. He grins triumphantly at Eliott who shakes his head with a smile in return. Lucas turns his attention to Alexia who’s currently battling the television input commands.

“Lexxxyyy,” he whines, directing the most pitiful look he can muster her way.

“What?” She replies, voice devoid of emotion and refusing to look at him. But she’ll give in. Lucas has known her for nearly half his life. She always gives in.

“I’m cold,” he pouts.

“That’s why I brought you a blanket.” She hasn’t looked at him yet, but Lucas knows the moment she does, the battle is won.

“Yes but,” he sniffles miserably for extra effect, “I can’t tuck it around me the way you can.” It’s nothing but the truth. Alexia has always had this special way of burrito-ing him in blankets that is the most comforting thing he’s ever experienced.

“Oh my god,” Emily exhales in disbelief beside him. “What are you, a baby?”

“Yes,” Lucas replies, quite rightly. “What about it?” He’s confident in his life choices.

She scoffs and looks away from him. But Eliott’s watching him. Eyes settled on him with an intensity Lucas can’t name. He looks away and back towards Alexia.

“Alexia. Please.”

“I hate you,” she says looking over at him.

He grins. Battle won.

She presses play on the movie and comes to blanket him in, tucking the edges down and around him as he curls himself up against the pillow propped against the armrest. He sighs happily as she finishes and leans down to kiss him on the forehead. While she’s up she dims the lights to the room and Lucas lets the familiar scenes of the movie playing before him lull him into a relaxed, dozy state. He doesn’t look at Eliott. He regularly feels Eliott’s eyes on him but refuses to return the look, refuses to think about the last time they attempted to watch the movie together. It’s not that important whether Eliott likes it or not. It doesn’t matter. _It doesn’t matter._

The kids in the room giggle at various points in the film and it warms Lucas from the inside out. They’ve been forced to watch this film with him at least twice before – or at least the kids who have been here for a few years have – and the fact that they’re watching it again for Lucas and enjoying it, is a feeling he’d like to capture and tuck away for a rainy day.

In the latter half of the film, Emily suddenly slumps into Lucas. He turns his head to see that she’s awake, though clearly sleepy. He un-burrows an arm and pulls the blanket back for her. She wordlessly snuggles under his arm, resting her head on his chest while he wraps her up in his blanket swaddle. He feels Eliott’s eyes on them and this time returns his gaze. Eliott’s simply watching them, eyes soft as his gaze falls on Emily’s face before returning to Lucas’s. He smiles, just a little, and turns back to the movie. Lucas stares at his profile for a minute more before he looks away.

“ _We’ll never survive_ ,” Buttercup says on screen.

“ _Nonsense,_ ” Wesley dismisses. “ _You’re only saying that because no one ever has.”_

* * * *

When Lucas returns to the common room, having carried a sleeping Emily to her room to tuck her in, Alexia and Eliott are the only ones who remain. Eliott is cleaning up the snacks while Alexia folds the blanket.

“Fuck, why did I think that was a good idea?” Lucas grumbles as he stretches his back.

“Because you’re chivalrous,” Eliott answers at the exact same time Alexia says, “Because you’re stupid.”

Lucas scoffs. “I like his answer better.” He directs a pout at Eliott. “Teach her to be nicer to me, Princeling.”

“Sorry.” Eliott smiles as he collects various candy wrappers littering the table. “Pretty sure it’s every sister’s duty to rag on her brother as much as possible.”

Alexia’s movement’s freeze. “You told him I was your sister?”

Lucas sighs deeply, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Alright,” she agrees but when Lucas looks over at her warily, he can see she’s sporting a smile that’s taking up the majority of her face. God he’s not going to live that one down. “Anyways,” Alexia continues, looking at Eliott, “thank you for being so sweet with, Em.”

“Of course.” Eliott looks up from his task, surprised. He glances over at Lucas briefly. “I don’t understand why she’s – uh, crushing on me though? I mean when there’s Lucas…”

“What?” Lucas laughs. “You are literally a gorgeous Prince who rescued her. Like how many little girls and boys entertain that fantasy as kids? And for her you made it an actual reality.”

“It’s true.” Alexia nods. “Don’t worry too much over it though. It’s just an innocent crush. She’ll be over it just as soon as she has someone new to direct that attention towards.”

“I’m not worried,” Eliott assures. “It’s sweet.”

“It is,” Alexia laughs. “And shit who hasn’t been there? I’m pretty sure all of us crushed on you and your sis at one point or another.”

“What?” Eliott asks startled.

“C’mon,” Alexia says with a roll of her eyes. “When pictures leaked of you guys as teens? I about lost my damn mind over your sister.”

“Manon?” Eliott asks eyes wide.

“You have another sister?” Alexia snorts.

“No. No. I – sorry – I just didn’t realize –” Eliott stutters.

“Yeah, babe,” Alexia smiles, correctly reading his confusion, “I’m bi. And god, your sister is fucking gorgeous.”

“She is.” Eliott returns her smile. “And um, I’m –” He swallows as he steals himself. “I’m pan.”

Lucas stares at him in surprise. He hadn’t expected Eliott to offer up that information so readily. Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised Alexia would attract that kind of honesty.

“Oh shit, really?” Alexia crows happily and offers him a fist to bump. “Bi/ Pan solidarity, baby!”

Eliott laughs, returning her fist bump before he turns to Lucas. “What about you?”

“What?” Lucas wrinkles his forehead in confusion. “Pretty sure everyone and their dog knows I’m gay, Eliott.”

“No,” Eliott laughs. “I mean,” he bites his lip coyly, “what Alexia said. Did you have a crush on us too? As a kid?” The implication behind his words is clear. What he means is: did you have a crush on _me?_

Lucas feels Alexia’s eyes swing to him, landing heavily on the side of his face. He ignores her and forces an easy laugh. “Oh nahhh, Princeling. Not me. Was more into musicians and actors myself, ya know? Never really had a thing for the monarchy.”

“Oh. Yeah. No, that makes sense.”

Lucas ignores the way Eliott’s face has dropped in clear disappointment. “Alright well, let’s leave the rest of this nutritional garbage in the kitchen for the kids.”

Eliott nods and grabs the tray of leftover food he’s collected. He leads the way out of the room.

“Lucas.” Alexia grabs his forearm when he goes to follow, her tone a cautious warning.

“Don’t.” He pleads in a whisper. “Just leave it.”

She nods and lets him go.

* * * *

“I really liked, um, the movie,” Eliott speaks into the silence between them as they walk through the back entrance into the Palace kitchen. It sits quiet and empty in the late hour.

“Yeah well there’s nothing like Chris Evans’ ass to end the night on a good note,” Lucas says with a smirk, knowing full well Eliott is not referring to the Avengers film they’d watched following The Princess Bride.

Eliott snorts. “I meant _your_ movie.”

“I know you did,” Lucas smiles at him as he hops up to sit on top of the bench table. If Arthur were here, he would absolutely yell at Lucas for putting his ass on the surface they use to eat but… Arthur isn’t here. “So, you liked it, hunh?” He tries not to put much stock in it. Lucas knows Eliott is saying it to get back in his good books after the whole Charles fiasco. Just the same he can’t help the way it fills him with a giddy sort of joy.

“Yeah,” Eliott nods, smiling sweetly. “It’s funny and…” He furrows his brow as he considers how to word himself. “It’s the kind of movie that just makes you feel good, you know? Like just warm and relaxed and… good.”

Lucas can’t help the way his face splits in a smile. He beams at Eliott, so pleased he doesn’t even try to hide it. “Oh yeah?”

Eliott stares at him, looking a little stunned. “Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat, looking away for a second and pulling a hand through his hair before he looks back with a sardonic grin. “I was a little distracted the first time.”

“Distracted, hunh?” Lucas chuckles. “Why was that?”

A blush deepens on Eliott’s cheeks, but he doesn’t look away. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

“I’m really going to make you say it.”

“Well I was trying to pay attention the first time we watched, but _someone_ kept grabbing me every two minutes.”

“Grabbing you?” Lucas smirks. “You make it sound like I was just straight up grabbing your dick.”

“You might as well have been. And I mean… you _did_.” Eliott’s entire expression reads a desperate need to come across more confident than he is. But Lucas will give it to him. He feels a little like he’s scrambling to keep up himself. In fairness, it’s late and he’s tired and… Eliott just said he liked The Princess Bride. Lucas just isn’t as well equipped as usual to deal with this flirty, cheeky Prince standing before him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sassling,” Lucas smirks. “But you know what I do know?”

“What?” Eliott asks, biting his lip as he looks at Lucas.

“That I want ice cream.”

“What?” Eliott laughs. “Ice cream?”

“You heard me.” He pouts. “I’m hungry, Eliott.”

“We literally just spent the night pigging out on junk food.” Eliott shakes his head in disbelief.

“No,” Lucas disagrees. “The rest of you did. I however was swathed under blankets and then a teen girl. I didn’t get any snacks!”

“Ok, ok.” Eliott gives in grinning. “I mean,” he glances around conspiratorially before continuing in a whisper, “I may have heard rumours that Alex made a batch of his mint chocolate chip cookie dough.”

“ _Mint chocolate chip cookie dough,_ ” Lucas gasps in disbelief. “How did I not know this was a thing? How could you keep this from me?! Bring it to me, Princeling!”

Eliott laughs. “Your wish, my command, Highness. Or do you prefer Buttercup?” He backs away with a bow, the adorable idiot.

When he returns it’s with a pint and two spoons.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Lucas crows. He scoots back on the table until there’s room for Eliott and pats the surface. “C’mon.”

“On the table? You know there are literally padded seats around the entire thing, yeah?”

Lucas continues to stare, flicking his eyes between the table and Eliott with an eyebrow raised. Eliott gives in with a giggle, just as Lucas knew he would, climbing up to sit cross-legged across from Lucas, the pint set between them.

“Oh god,” Lucas moans as his first spoonful hits his tongue. “It’s an orgasm in my mouth. Wait.” He squints as he reconsiders. “That’s not what I meant.” Eliott snorts. “It’s giving my mouth an orgasm. Yeah. That works.”

“Idiot,” Eliott laughs, scooping his own spoonful.

“No insulting me when I’m in my happy place,” Lucas mumbles around another spoonful.

“ _Happy place_ ,” Eliott mocks. “You’re so stupid.”

And well… Lucas hates to waste good ice cream, but sacrifices must be made when faced with such attitude. He digs for another spoonful and with an effective flick of his spoon, sends it careening into Eliott. It lands with a wet splat right on his neck, a chunk flopping down beneath his shirt and leaving a trail of ice cream behind.

“Lucas!” Eliott cries startled, dropping his spoon into the pint and reaching for his collar. Lucas laughs, grabbing Eliott’s hand before he creates even more of a mess.

“I got it.” He pushes the pint to the side, using his grip on Eliott’s wrist to pull himself up until he’s perched on his knees. His other hand tugs Eliott forward by the back of the neck. Eliott’s eyes widen and his breath hitches obviously as Lucas pushes his collar back, tracing fingers along the edge of the sticky, sweet trail leading down Eliott’s neck. He has a beautiful neck; skin speckled by small moles, tendons tightened and stretched against the delicate, pale skin. Leaning forward, Lucas stops with his lips a hair’s breadth from Eliott’s skin. He blows lightly on the wet, trail of melting ice cream.

“Lucas.” It’s said as a broken gasp, needy and affected. Heat fills Lucas’s veins at the sound. He tilts his head and latches on with his mouth, tracing the sweet remnants of the ice cream with his tongue, down until the trail disappears beneath Eliott’s shirt.

Lucas pulls back a little, gliding his thumb across Eliott’s clavicle bone. “I think you got a little on your chest.” He looks up to meet Eliott’s heavy-lidded gaze with a smirk.

A cold hand is suddenly connecting with the side of his face, fingers sliding down his neck and leaving a trail of wet and sticky ice cream behind. Eliott grins. “I think you got a little on you too.”

Lucas mouth drops open. He looks down at where Eliott’s hand now rests against Lucas’s thigh. The sneaky little bastard just went for it bare-handed, his fingers now having smeared ice cream onto not only Lucas’s face and neck but his leg. “Oh Princeling, you don’t know what you started.”

“Don’t I?” Eliott asks, eyebrow raised in challenge, cheeky smile firmly in place.

They move at the same time, launching sideways for the pint, hands diving in. They both grab for one another’s arms before either is able to effectively smear more ice cream on the other’s face.

“I’m gonna end you, Princeling!” Lucas shouts through laughter. “You’re gonna be finding mint chocolate chunks in your ear a week from now!” Both of them are laughing too hard to gain any real advantage but it’s clear neither are going to give in easily. Lucas is honestly surprised the table doesn’t collapse under the weight of their close-handed grapple. Eliott has moved up to his knees for better leverage, but the slick ice cream covering their hands makes it hard to maintain a grip and Lucas manages to get an arm free. He leaps forward, falling half in Eliott’s lap and slaps a hand to Eliott’s cheek, smearing the ice cream down to his neck and wiping his hand on Eliott’s shirt for good measure.

Lucas grins triumphantly and then… there’s a hand in his hair. A hand _smearing ice cream_ through his hair. Lucas’s jaw drops as Eliott’s grin spreads to comical proportions.

“Someone should tell you, your hair looks sexy pushed back.”

Lucas cannot believe… “Did you just spread ice cream in my hair while quoting Mean Girls?”

“I maybe spread ice cream in your hair while quoting Mean Girls.” Eliott’s grip tightens.

“You didn’t know The Princess Bride, but you can quote Mean Girls. Who even are you?” Lucas laughs.

“I know The Princess Bride now. And Mean Girls is a brilliant film, Lucas,” Eliott states seriously and now his other hand is in Lucas’s hair. Lucas allows it, enjoying the feeling of Eliott’s fingers combing through the strands. “Someone of your discerning taste should know.” He runs his nails just a little against Lucas’s scalp and Lucas leans into it, tilting his head and pressing up into the feeling.

“I wasn’t disagreeing.” Lucas notes his voice has gone raspy and noticeably deeper than it had been.

If Eliott heard him he doesn’t acknowledge it. His eyes have dropped to Lucas's face and he watches closely as Lucas’s eyes involuntarily flutter as his fingers comb gently through Lucas’s hair. It feels amazing. He shifts a little further forward into Eliott’s hands, their legs overlapping.

“Feel good?” Eliott asks, his voice a low rumble.

“Yeah,” Lucas whispers, opening his eyes. He hadn’t realized he’d shut them. 

Eliott’s eyes are on him, his gaze heavy and lips parted. Lucas knows that look. He is the proud master of instigating that look. He just… hadn’t even meant to do so in this case. He feels wildly out of control in fact. Putty in Eliott’s hands. Eliott tightens his grip in Lucas’s hair, pulling just slightly and his eyes drop to Lucas’s lips. Lucas slaps a hand to Eliott’s chest, pressing him back.

“Lucas, what…” Eliott’s eyebrows bunch together in confusion.

“Lay back,” Lucas hushes, pushing Eliott until he gets the idea and leans back, propping himself on his elbows and watching Lucas with interest. Lucas reaches for the buttons of Eliott’s shirt, unfastening them quickly until it falls back exposing Eliott’s chest.

“What are you doing?” Eliott whispers, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

Lucas reaches for the pint of ice cream, Eliott’s eyes tracking his every movement. “You once asked me about my kinks…”

Eliott sucks in a sharp breath and nods.

“Well,” Lucas continues with a smile, dipping a spoon in the melting ice cream before returning it to Eliott’s body, dripping it across his stomach, “I _have_ always wanted to eat ice cream off a hot guys abs.”

“Lucas…” Eliott gasps, shuddering at the feeling of the cold spoon against his body.

“That alright with you?” Lucas inquires carefully, watching Eliott’s face for any signs of discomfort.

“Yeah I… yeah…” Eliott whispers, mouth dropped open and intensity of his gaze burning through Lucas.

“Ok.” Lucas smiles and wastes no more time. He immediately leans down and with a hand holding Eliott still by his waist, Lucas catches the drip of ice cream rolling down Eliott’s abs with the tip of his tongue, following it up and flattening his tongue as he laps up the rest of the sweet liquid. He reaches for the spoon once more, dribbling a little more of the melted ice cream across Eliott’s lower stomach. Eliott shivers at the contact against his overheated skin. Lucas presses into the mess with a thumb, spreading it into the divots between Eliott’s abs.

“Jesus,” Lucas exhales. “You should be illegal.”

Eliott’s laugh quickly turns to a groan as Lucas bends back down and scrapes teeth and tongue across the spill now. He bites just slightly, latching on and sucking. Just enough to leave the skin pink and affected. Eliott’s hand is back in Lucas’s hair, restlessly combing through the strands and there’s a tremor running through his body in waves. He’s so incredibly beautiful. Lucas has never experienced want like this. He leans up slightly and Eliott’s hand falls from his head to the side of his neck, his thumb smoothing over Lucas’s Adam’s apple. Lucas slides fingers down Eliott’s stomach until they reach the edge of his pants, and then slightly under. He presses into the skin, squeezing them beneath the tight band.

He flicks his eyes up to Eliott who is watching him intently. “Can I?” He thinks the implication is clear, but he’ll state it outright if Eliott seems at all uncertain.

“Yes,” Eliott replies without hesitation. “Anything, Lucas. Anything you want.”

“Careful there, Princeling,” Lucas cautions with a cheeky smile as he pops open Eliott’s fly and begins slowly sliding down the zipper. “You don’t know what I’ll do with a blank cheque like that.” 

“I trust you.” He says it with the same lack of hesitation. It’s immediate, instinctual… true.

Lucas freezes in his movements, holding Eliott’s gaze for a moment. God, he’s just… and Lucas is just… _fuck_. Lucas is going to suck his dick within an inch of his life. That’s what he’s going to do. He turns his attention back to the task at hand.

“Lift up.” He taps Eliott’s hip.

Eliott pauses for a second. Enough time to have Lucas glancing back up at him in question, wondering if he’s changed his mind. But when their eyes meet it’s anything but hesitation on Eliott’s face. He raises his hips. Just enough for Lucas to slide down his pants and briefs, which Lucas does in one harsh tug, pulling them down to mid-thigh, leaving him slightly bound.

Eliott’s erection springs free, so hard Lucas takes a moment to appreciate the self-control it’s likely taking Eliott to remain still and placid beneath Lucas’s hands. Lucas runs a finger up the underside, tracing the vein bulging from the soft skin.

“Lucas,” Eliott whines, reaching forward and gripping Lucas’s forearm in a tight, desperate squeeze, nails digging into the delicate skin.

Lucas chuckles. Ok… maybe not as much self-control as Lucas thought. “Patience, Princeling. It’s a virtue. Aren’t you Royal types supposed to be virtuous?”

Eliott releases Lucas’s arm and slumps back fully onto the table, splayed now on his back. He tips his head back. “Take your time then.” His eyes close. “I’m fine here.”

Lucas is thankful Eliott can’t see the utter affection he’s sure is splayed across his face in that moment. Eliott is just… so fucking great. Lucas doesn’t know how he got lucky enough to be positioned above this sassy fucker’s dick but he’s not about to waste the opportunity.

Lucas reaches once more for a scoop of ice cream and Eliott’s eyes flicker open at the sound. His hands clench slightly at his sides, opening and closing with anticipation as he watches. Knowing what Eliott expects, Lucas pops the spoon into his own mouth instead, letting the ice cream sit as it melts, cooling his tongue. And with a quirk of his eyebrow, he swallows and leans down, enveloping Eliott in his mouth, letting the cool press of his tongue swallow the heat of Eliott’s cock. Eliott inhales sharply. His hand finds Lucas’s hair again and he pets it back gently, clasping a hand in the strands to hold them away from Lucas’s face. It’s undoubtedly done in the interest of affording Eliott a better view and Lucas peers up through his eyelashes as he pulls back slightly, sucking just around the head now. The strain of doing so is worth it for the sight of Eliott struggling to look down at him. When their eyes meet Lucas pulls off with a smirk, replacing his mouth with a firm hand. He doesn’t tease, stroking Eliott’s cock with a tight, rough grip. Eliott moans deeply and Lucas can tell he’s fighting not to give in and throw back his head, to instead keep his eyes open and focused. Lucas can’t help but wonder how far he can push Eliott before he's no longer in any control, before he gives in to his instincts entirely.

Lucas bends down again, sucking lightly at the tip, before he speaks. He keeps his tone conversational, casual and unbothered, despite the fact that his own erection is pressing uncomfortably against the restraint of his pants. “You think ice cream would work to slick you up or would it just make things sticky and gross?” He tilts his head curiously as he pauses to rub the pad of his thumb against the underside of the head of Eliott’s cock. Eliott shudders and his hand tightens almost to the point of pain in Lucas’s hair sending a surge of pleasurable sparks directly to Lucas’s balls. It takes everything in him not to show it. “I’m willing to bet it would be better in theory than practice.” He moves his other hand to Eliott’s balls, fondling them as he returns to stroking Eliott, faster now, a little tighter than he would normally. He has a feeling Eliott likes it just as Lucas does, just on the edge of too rough. And judging by the way Eliott has started verbalizing his pleasure, Lucas is right.

“Luc– ungh. God. Please–”

“You can do better than that, Princeling.” Lucas flicks out his tongue, catching the precome beading at the head of Eliott’s erection. “I mean what if I was a guy who needed a little direction, hmm?”

“Lucas.” Eliott pants but his tone is reprimanding, a displeased tilt to his eyebrows. He’s adorable.

“What?” Lucas grins, slowing the pace of his hand and loosening his grip until he’s just lightly gliding fingers against the hot skin. “What is it you want? My hand not good enough for you? You think you were promised something else?”

Eliott’s face transforms at the question. It softens unexpectedly and he lets himself slump back to the table, eyes shutting and small smile appearing. It wasn’t at all what Lucas expected and he pauses his movements entirely, looking at Eliott curiously.

“No,” Eliott replies, the rough quality of his voice rushes across Lucas’s skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “No. I don’t expect anything.” His eyes blink open and he tilts his head slightly to the side so as to better see Lucas where he rests a mere breath from the weeping tip of Eliott’s cock. “I’d take anything from you. Anything – everything you’d give. And only that.”

It’s a ridiculously sweet sentiment. The most outrageously Princely behaviour, Lucas could laugh. And he would. He would if it weren’t for the fact that the sentiment has left him more frantic with the need to give Eliott pleasure than Eliott even seems to receive it. Lucas stares only for a split second more before he leans down again, taking Eliott back into his mouth and not stopping this time. Swallowing him down until he hits the back of Lucas’s throat and then further, into the spasming muscles that object at the intrusion, swallowing compulsively around the hard length. Eliott grunts, hand moving from Lucas’s hair to his shoulder where his nails bite into the skin. Lucas pulls back up, hand covering the slick exposed skin as he suckles on the head, pressing his tongue into the tip, and inhaling deeply through his nose, allowing his throat a moment to recover before he sinks back down, swallowing Eliott once more.

“ _Luc –_ oh god. I – oh god.”

Eliott’s hips twitch with each slide of Lucas’s mouth, tiny involuntary movements, a desperate attempt to thrust deeper that Eliott keeps in check by force of will. Lucas isn’t interested in his self-control, as impressive as it may be.

Lucas moves until he’s once more concentrating on the head of Eliott’s erection. He grabs Eliott’s hand on his shoulder and guides it back to his hair, settling it there with a subtle press. His own hands go to either side of Eliott’s hips and he squeezes them in suggestion, blinking up at Eliott through watery eyes. Eliott’s eyes are open and focused on him, his forehead wrinkled as he deciphers what Lucas is suggesting. Lucas knows the exact moment he gets it. His mouth parts and his eyes widen.

“Oh fuck.”

Fuck. _Fuck_. The whispered curse from Eliott’s lips sends ripples of pleasure through Lucas’s body, and as Eliott’s hips behind to twitch up into his mouth, Lucas moves a hand to his own pants, quickly undoing them to relieve pressure. But Eliott is being too gentle, just barely twisting up into Lucas’s mouth, hand combing softly through the tangles of Lucas’s hair. That he’s being so careful with Lucas doesn’t come as a surprise. This is the same sap who yelled at Lucas for killing a spider in the garage one day as they ate lunch instead of capturing it and releasing it outside; who had been genuinely upset and wondered if the spider had left behind a family somewhere (and yes Lucas had mocked him endlessly for the sentiment despite being not-so-secretly charmed). The fact that he’s gentle to an actual fault is something Lucas should have expected. But it won’t do. Not now.

Lucas pinches the skin of Eliott’s hip with one hand, harshly, enough that he hears Eliott inhale loudly in response. And when Eliott looks back down to meet his eyes, Lucas tries to communicate everything through the look he sends back. _I can take it. Stop fucking around._ Eliott’s hand tightens in his hair. _Yes_. And he thrusts up into Lucas’s mouth in one harsh move. Lucas’s eyes instantly water, tears spilling over as Eliott hits the back of his throat and he fights back his gag reflex. Eliott pulls back, out of his mouth enough to give Lucas a moment to adjust. And he can feel Eliott watching him closely, attentively. Lucas can practically see the antenna springing from his head, tuned to Lucas’s frequency and primed to send abort signals should Lucas give any indication of discomfort. Lucas shuts his eyes instead. Eliott thrusts up, sinking deeply into his throat, and Lucas concentrates on breathing through his nose, suppressing his gag reflex and giving himself over to the feel of Eliott inside him, Eliott _taking_ his own pleasure from Lucas.

Eliott’s other hand is in Lucas’s hair now too, holding Lucas still as he thrusts up into the heat of Lucas’s mouth, the tight grip of his throat. He’s releasing grunts with each thrust, a harsh guttural noise he doesn’t seem in control of, and his movements have gained a frantic quality. Cock deep in Lucas’s throat he barely pulls out now, thrusting in short, jerky bursts in and out of the pressure as Lucas swallows around him. Lucas’s jaw aches with the constant stretch. It’s never been something he’s gotten used to, that strain that sits on a knifes edge of true discomfort. But it feels different now, like a subtle buzzing in the distant part of his brain, easy to dismiss, overpowered by the transfer of pleasure coursing from Eliott right into Lucas. It’s Eliott. It’s Eliott pumping into his mouth on the cusp of orgasm. It’s Eliott who is going to fill him up, come down Lucas’s throat when the pleasure becomes too much and just enough, when he can’t take any more and he has to give in, give himself over to Lucas fully.

“Oh god. Oh my – _fuck_. Lucas.” Eliott’s hips move in rapid fire and Lucas knows he’s one more suggestion from finding release, on the brink of spilling over… waiting for Lucas to get him there. Lucas moves a finger down, beneath Eliott’s balls, pressing back until he finds Eliott’s hole, clenching and releasing in time with his movements in Lucas’s mouth. Lucas presses a finger against it.

“Lucas, Lucas, Lucas,” Eliott chants frantically, “I’m going to – I’m going to –”

Lucas breaches with just the tip of his finger, a dry press up and into Eliott, and feels Eliott swell in his mouth and then he’s coming, shooting down Lucas’s throat with a loud groan, hands moving to Lucas’s shoulders and the back of his neck as he shakes through it. Lucas swallows everything, only letting up as Eliott hands return to his hair, tugging at him gently.

The second Lucas opens his eyes and is met with the sight of Eliott stripped raw, flushed from the tip of his nose through his throat and chest, sweat collected at his temples, and tremor still running through him as his chest rises and falls with desperate breaths, Lucas knows he’s done for. He rises to his knees between Eliott’s legs, shoving down his pants and briefs to mid-thigh and taking himself in hand. He leans forward, pressing a hand to Eliott’s stomach and strips his cock ruthlessly as he stares at Eliott, who watches him fixedly. Eliott licks his lips and his hand comes to Lucas’s chest. His thumb circles a nipple and sensation rushes over Lucas. Eliott presses down with his thumb before taking the nipple between two fingers and pinching harshly. Lucas falls forward and he’s coming, jerking himself as he shoots onto Eliott’s stomach, onto the skin and remnants of melted ice cream that remain there. The pleasure is overwhelming, wave after wave sweeping Lucas under like a riptide. He gives himself over to it, lets it shake through him with a force he’s never experienced before, lets it be the best he’s ever had … lets it ruin him.

When he comes back to himself, his hand is still on Eliott, pressing down with the full force of his weight onto Eliott’s chest, fingers spread across his ribs. Eliott’s eyes are on Lucas’s face, gliding across it like a soft touch, the previous fire in them gentled to a soft burn. Lucas drops his own gaze to Eliott’s stomach. He brings fingers to the mess he’s left there, spreading it into the soft skin.

“God you look so unbelievably smug right now,” Eliott speaks, voice hoarse and amused. He sits up enough to rest on his elbows and watch Lucas’s hand moving on his stomach.

The smile already growing on Lucas’s face stretches further. “Can you blame me?” His own voice has been stripped entirely raw. He lifts his eyes back to Eliott’s face. “You look quite undone, Princeling.”

Eliott chuckles, voice rough and far too sexy. “You do like making a mess of me.” He sits up fully now, shifting to pull his briefs and pants back up.

Lucas does the same, tucking himself away. “You’re fun to make a mess of, what can I say?”

“Well?” Eliott asks, eyebrow raised as he looks to Lucas. “You going to go get something so I can clean myself up?”

“Psssh,” Lucas dismisses with a wave of the hand. “Why do that when you can just do this?” He reaches for the edge of Eliott’s open shirt, dragging the material up and swiping it across Eliott’s stomach before Eliott even has a moment to react.

Eliott doesn’t move. In fact, he freezes beneath Lucas’s hands in disbelief as Lucas gleefully continues to mop up with the ends of his shirt. He meets Lucas’s gaze with a look undoubtedly meant to scream ‘unimpressed’ but, thoroughly fucked out as Eliott is, he only manages to convey something like ‘payback is coming’. Lucas is not averse to the thought.

“You really think you’re funny, don’t you?” Eliott says, eyebrow raised.

“I think I’m hilarious,” Lucas agrees, grinning and sitting back, satisfied with his work.

Eliott’s mouth pulls up at the corner and then he’s leaping forward, a hand going around Lucas’s neck to hold him in place as he transfers the disaster on his shirt directly onto Lucas’s with a fairly effective swipe of the materials together.

“Oh you are cruisin’ for a brusin’, mister,” Lucas threatens, grabbing both of Eliott’s wrists.

“Crusin’ for a brusin’?” Eliott repeats with a laugh, struggling to free himself from Lucas’s hold. “You really did escape from an old folks home, didn’t you?”

“ _Old folks_ … oh I am gonna kick your ass!” Lucas manages to shout between bouts of laughter as they wrestle on the table together. He struggles to maintain his hold on Eliott while Eliott pretty effectively fights for purchase on Lucas’s arms. In the ensuing tussle, Eliott’s leg kicks out to the side and he sends the melted pint of ice cream careening down onto the table’s bench, a disastrous surge of liquid falling with it, coating the edge of the table and the bench. They both freeze at the sight, Eliott with one hand holding Lucas’s bicep, the wrist of his other hand still held tightly in Lucas’s grip. 

“Well now you did it,” Lucas whispers looking from the spill back to Eliott.

Eliott’s mouth twitches at the corners and then they’re both laughing, giggling like five-years-olds on a sugar-high. They fall forward together as they laugh, refusing to give up purchase of one another. When Lucas regains his breath and tips his head up it’s to the sight of Eliott much closer than he expected. Eliott is no longer laughing, not even smiling. Instead he looks serious. Serious and… certain. Lucas has seen that look before. It was the look Eliott wore the night he turned up at the bar unexpectedly and they found themselves together in the back office. Eliott’s eyes drop to Lucas’s lips and Lucas finds himself unintentionally wetting them with his tongue.

A door slams. Initially neither of them reacts to the noise, caught in some sort of post-sex bubble. When the sound registers it’s Eliott who speaks.

“Was that…”

“Oh fuck. Eliott, someone’s coming!” Lucas whispers frantically, releasing him. The sound is coming from the opposite end of the kitchen and the door that leads to the back hall. It’s someone coming from the main area of the Palace. 

“Oh god,” Eliott’s eyes widen to comical proportions. “Lucas! Oh god.” He pushes back and away as though he’s entirely forgotten they’re on top of a table. He’s going to topple right off the edge backwards.

“Eliott!” Lucas reaches for him, but before he can grab Eliott’s shirt and prevent the inevitable fall, Lucas’s other hand, unintentionally set down on the ice cream spill on the table, slips and he topples sideways. Eliott flails and falls backwards, tumbling in a pile of limbs right off the table, while Lucas flops onto the bench seat and directly on top of what is in fact a fairly epic spill of melted ice cream.

Eliott pops back up as though he didn’t just fall headfirst off the table onto a cement floor. “Lucas! What do we do?!” He freezes at the sight of Lucas who sits up, ice cream now dripping down the entire length of one side of his body. “Oh my god.” Humour now permeates the panic in his voice.

“Don’t fucking even,” Lucas threatens, finger dripping with ice cream pointed in Eliott’s direction. Another sound comes from the hall. Fuck. Whoever it is, they are definitely advancing towards the kitchen.

“Lucas!” Eliott whispers fiercely and motions down at his own body. While Lucas is half-dipped in ice cream and no doubt looks utterly ridiculous, Eliott on the other hand looks _fucked_. His shirt hangs open and the remnants of ice cream and Lucas’s orgasm are spread over both his stomach and shirt.

“Take it off! Take it off!” Lucas motions frantically.

“What?” Eliott looks confused but does as told, stripping off his shirt entirely. Lucas grabs it from him and quickly mops it through the ice cream pooled around him. He leaps up from the bench, smearing it across Eliott’s stomach before giving himself the same treatment over his shirt.

“We accidentally spilled the melted ice cream and tried to clean it up with your shirt. I slipped and you were helping.”

“Lucas that doesn’t make any sense,” Eliott protests and that’s when the kitchen door swings open.

In truth, Lucas was expecting – or perhaps hoping – it would be Manon or Idriss. At worst he expected one of the overnight guards. And while it would have been an awkward scene to try to explain, Lucas has no doubt had it been any of the anticipated persons, they could have pulled it off. He isn’t sure why he keeps believing the world will let him off so easily. Since when has life ever thrown him a bone? This – _this_ is what Lucas should have expected. The worst-case scenario. Eliott’s mom. The Queen.

Initially she doesn’t notice them. Walking through the kitchen towards the center island, it must be an infinitesimal movement on one of their parts that catches her eye and her head slowly turns towards them. Lucas can’t even imagine what they both look like, Eliott bare-chested, both of them covered in melted ice cream, the spill surrounding them absolutely catastrophic.

“Eliott?” She asks, face pulling together in confusion. As her eyes drift towards Lucas and take in the scene, her expression grows cold, her eyes narrowing. It sends a chill skittering down Lucas’s back.

“Mother,” Eliott acknowledges, stepping subtly in front of Lucas, “it’s late. What are you doing?”

“I believe I should ask you the same.” She rounds the counter and begins walking towards them. Lucas has never been one to cower, but he happily does so behind Eliott as she approaches. “I couldn’t sleep and came to make myself some tea.” She stops in front of Eliott and after a long, hard look at her son’s face, her eyes move past his shoulder to Lucas. “And you are?”

“It’s Lucas,” Eliott answers before Lucas can do so. “Lucas,” he repeats, voice incredulous when his mother’s face shows no recognition. “How do you not know who Lucas is? He took over for Victor. He’s in charge of all the cars. He’s been here how long, and you’ve never even bothered to meet him?!”

Lucas desperately wants to tell Eliott to shut the fuck up. Of all times for Eliott to decide to defend Lucas, he would have to choose when they’re facing off against the Queen, covered in ice cream, after having sex on top of the kitchen table… truly how has Lucas’s life come to this? In what parallel universe did he piss off enough gods to deserve this moment?

He steps forward until he stands beside Eliott and in front of the Queen. “Lucas Lallemant, Your Majesty.” He offers a slight bow of his head as is protocol. He might be dripping ice cream down the entire length of his body but he knows his fucking Royal protocol, and while Eliott might be bent on pissing off the Queen, Lucas doesn’t have the luxury of being related to her and would prefer to keep his head.

She looks thoroughly unimpressed nevertheless, her eyes sweeping over him with disgust. She returns her attention to Eliott. In this particular instance, Lucas is more than happy to remain invisible in her eyes… a mere speck of lint floating in the air, nothing she’s pleased with but nothing she’d lock away for the rest of its natural born life either.

“Eliott, explain yourself.” Her tone brooks no argument.

Eliott crosses his arms across his chest, immediately defensive. “I don’t have to explain anything.”

Oh _fuckkkkkkk_. Lucas sees his life flash before his eyes. He’s going to end up locked away in a tower and he’ll have no access to music OR cars OR dicks, aside from his own. Truly life as he knows it is over.

“Do not use that tone with me young man,” his mother hisses angrily. “You _will_ explain why you are half-naked in my kitchen with a servant.”

“Don’t speak about him like that!” Eliott bites out, his anger easily matching his mother’s. “You know his name. You can speak it!”

Lucas would like a recall on all the times he got angry at Eliott for not defending him in the face of this sort of snobbish elitism. If he could have predicted it would have resulted in Eliott telling off the motherfucking QUEEN on Lucas’s behalf, he would have… ok, he probably still would have given Eliott shit but at least he would have more adequately prepared for his future beheading.

“You will not speak to me that way in front of a _servant_ ,” she repeats the word with spite before directing her next words to Lucas. “Leave us.”

Lucas nods, more than happy to obey. “Yes, ma’am.” He turns to leave and is stopped by a hand latching onto his arm. _Oh Christ on a goddamn cracker…_

“He doesn’t have to go anywhere.” Eliott pulls Lucas a little closer to his side. “You can’t order him around!”

“In fact, I can,” the Queen replies, speaking the exact words Lucas was thinking. “He is _my_ employee,” her eyes flick to Lucas only for a split second, the same dismissive quality to her gaze, “and he is standing in my kitchen in what looks to be an entirely inappropriate situation with my son. If he wants to remain my employee, he would do well to observe by my command.”

Lucas can see Eliott’s mouth opening to argue and he cannot allow this to continue.

“Eliott.” He says it quietly, jerking his arm enough in Eliott’s hold to pull his attention. When Eliott’s eyes swing to him, Lucas pleads desperately with his eyes. _It’s ok. Please just leave it._ Eliott’s face pinches with unhappiness but he releases Lucas’s arm.

Lucas turns back to the Queen. “I apologize for disrupting your evening, ma’am. I’ll leave now.”

She acknowledges him only with a slight nod, no eye contact.

Lucas flees. Dripping ice cream as he goes, he does his best to retreat quickly without actually breaking into a sprint. He doesn’t look back.

* * * *

* * * *

One of the oddest things about living in the Palace, Lucas’s place of work, is still being here on the weekend. Lucas isn’t sure he likes it. It’s not that he hates his job – quite obviously – but he doesn’t want to feel like he’s still _at_ his job on the weekends. And then there’s the fact that it’s the Palace, the very symbol of everything he’s railed against for much of his adult life. That he’s not only taken a job with the institution he’d sworn to loathe, but now owes the roof over his head to it… well, he can’t help but feel like a traitor. And perhaps it’s silly. It’s not like Lucas is living in a lap of luxury, he’s working for everything he has. But it’s hard not to feel like he’s setting aside his own morals when he reaps the benefits of his association while nothing has changed outside its walls. Mary scrambles for warm shelter every evening as the weather grows colder, while children like Emily have to rely on a youth shelter with inadequate funding to survive. And those children unlucky enough not to end up on Alexia’s doorstep suffer in unsafe shelters with staff who have neither been properly trained or had to undergo any safety screenings. Every thought weighs on Lucas, heavy and unbearable. The point being, he needs to get the fuck out of here for the day. Yann has thankfully come to his rescue and replied to his desperate, nonsensical text with a simple: _Lunch? Video games? Beer? I’ll come get you._

When the knock at his bedroom door comes, he stares at it from his spot sprawled on the bed. There’s no way it’s Yann. He would’ve texted Lucas to get his ass out and to the car lot to meet him. It could be Chloe, but she more than likely would have only offered a cursory knock before bursting in. She’d specifically told him to either lock his door or expect company and he’d taken her seriously. His heart rate picks up. Eliott? It could be Eliott. Lucas just can’t decide if he wants it to be Eliott. Their… thing… whatever it is… it’s officially more than a one-time thing now. It’s not an entirely unfamiliar situation to Lucas, he and Leon have hooked up at least four of five times before… but this isn’t Leon.

Lucas hops up from the bed and does a quick, frantic inspection of himself in the wall mirror. His hair is a tangled mess, having gone to bed with it wet the night prior after… the ice cream shenanigans and very necessary shower… and as he’s spending the day with Yann he’s made approximately zero effort with any part of his look today, donning his rattiest sweats. So ok… not his best effort. But on the plus side he can absolutely play up the quite literally just-rolled-out-of-bed look, and he has a hunch that will do things for Eliott. 

Blood buzzing through his veins he opens his door with smirk firmly in place. It’s not Eliott. Initially the overwhelming disappointment at that fact overrides all other thought. It takes a good half a minute of staring into the face that greets him before sheer horror replaces any ounce of anticipation.

“Mr. Lallemant,” the Queen greets, tone as cold and expressionless as the look on her face. Her very presence is like a blinking neon sign reading: _THIS is why living in the Palace was the worst decision you ever made._

“Your Majesty,” Lucas replies with an appropriate bow of the head. “I apologize. I hadn’t expected you or I would have made myself more presentable.”

Her eyes flick to his clothing before resting back on his face. “That’s perfectly fine. You’re in your home, you can dress however you are comfortable.” It’s a more agreeable sentiment than he would have expected but it does nothing to relax him. Nothing good can be expected from her being at Lucas’s door. “I thought it best I come to formally meet you – after the events of last night.”

“Of course.” Lucas hesitates as he decides what to suggest. This is outside the limits of his repertory of appropriate protocol when communicating with the Queen. He’s in his bedroom for god’s sake. He can’t very well invite her in. But making her stand on his doorstep seems just as much a slight. “There’s a table in our kitchen nook if you’d like to…” He trails off as he motions down the hall towards the kitchen.

“No,” she dismisses quickly. “I won’t be long.” It should be music to his ears. Instead it sounds like a threat.

“Ok. As you prefer.” He meets her eyes, his own gaze anything but friendly he is sure, but he’s not one for false pretenses when challenged. Any more than he imagines she is. And it seems clear now, that’s exactly what this is – the Queen throwing down the gauntlet. “What is it I can help you with?”

She stares at him for a moment, letting the silence stew between them. Lucas knows this tactic. It’s a power move to discomfit another, to trick a person into speaking in order to fill the uncomfortable silence, to reveal weakness. He remains silent, returning her gaze steadily.

“May I speak plainly?” She asks, eyebrow raised.

“Please do.”

“You and my son have become close.” It’s not a question, not the way she’s stated it, but she pauses as though waiting for Lucas to speak. He remains silent. Her eyes narrow slightly, and she continues, “He seems to be under the impression I should have no say in this development.” She’s assessing him with every swipe of her eyes across his face. “Eliott has a great deal of responsibilities, Mr. Lallemant, present and future. It is in his best interest to accept his role as a figurehead of this family, and anyone who would delay this inevitability becomes a problem for me.”

“I’d say his future includes being far more than a figurehead. Eliott is smart, compassionate, and brave. He will make a great leader.” He knows he’s treading in dangerous waters even so much as implying a falseness in what the Queen has said, but her words rankle him more than he expected. “And I in no way would turn him from his responsibilities in that respect.”

“You are a distraction, Mr. Lallemant,” she says, voice calm and cold. “A way for Eliott to avoid choices he would rather not make. Whether you would actively encourage him in defying me or not, your very presence in his life allows him to do so with glee.” He sees her mouth twist slightly, a tiny twitch easily overlooked and the only indication she’s given that she is furious. “Last night my son told me he would not cut you from his life under any circumstances. And in fact, he would give up a great deal – he would actively destroy a great deal of the future I have assured for him – in order to keep that promise.” Lucas can feel his heartbeat in his ears as she continues to speak. “I wonder however, would you offer the same? Would you sacrifice the same for your _friendship_?” The word is a mockery in her mouth.

“I’m unclear on what sort of an answer you are seeking, ma’am.” His voice comes out steady, thank god. He sounds unaffected despite the way his heart feels like it is going to beat out of his chest. “Is this your way of telling me to seek other employment?”

“Oh no,” she dismisses with a smile that is not at all reassuring. “Of course not. Your employment with us at the Palace is quite separate from your friendship with my son.” He doesn’t believe that for one moment. Just as she likely knows he won’t. Their conversation is an exhausting obstacle course, only instead of a trip and fall resulting in dirty palms or a scraped knee, what awaits him is a descent into a pit of boiling lava. And should he survive the course and reach the finish line, he can’t even be sure what sort of prize awaits him, if at all.

“What is it you would ask of me then?” He doesn’t want to ask. He doesn’t particularly want to be faced with the reality of whatever her plan happens to be, but he needs to know. He needs to know where she is going with this because at the moment, he’s fumbling blindfolded, and there is no way to avoid those lava pits without at least seeing the course first.

“Oh, nothing of note.” She smiles again and it sends a chill down Lucas’s spine. “I simply felt it was in both of our interests to lay our cards on the table, so to speak.” The idea that either of them are doing anything remotely like being upfront is utterly laughable, but Lucas stays silent and allows her to continue to speak. “And should your… liaison with my son continue, I should hope you care enough for his well-being that you will allow him to step into the shoes left for him by his father and assume his proper title when the time comes.”

“Proper title? As figure head?”

“As monarch held accountable by more than his cock.” She says the word so casually, it takes Lucas a moment to truly digest it. And when he does it’s only just barely that he manages not to choke on the breath he quickly inhales. “He likes you,” her smile is back, “and I am sure you have your…” her eyes drift pointedly to his crotch and it takes all of his self-restraint not to jerk his hands in front of it to block her view, “ _attributes_. But Eliott’s path leads in a very different direction than your own, as I am sure you are aware.” She pauses to allow her words to sink in. “My son is intelligent. You are right about that. But he is not a natural leader. No, in fact he needs someone in his life who will direct him to the right choices, guide him … when he does not trust himself or his own mind to do so.” She tilts her head slightly, calculating. “We are blessed to have Lucille assume that role. She and Eliott love one another deeply and she will guide him through the next steps in his life. I would hope, caring for Eliott as you do, you will encourage them to find their happiness together, as has been the plan since their infancy, as has been both of their wish since they fell in love so many years ago.”

There is so much that is ridiculous about the words she has spoken Lucas doesn’t even know where to begin. The enormity of the unwanted burden not only on Eliott’s shoulders, but on Lucille’s, has never been made so abundantly clear. As clear as Eliott’s mother's total lack of faith in his abilities, in his strengths, in his ability to be a great and compassionate leader for his country. It makes Lucas sick, makes him surer than he’s ever been that spending half his life despising her from afar was time well spent. 

“I assure you,” he begins, “even the impressive talents of my _cock_ have their limitations. Eliott is his own man and will make his own choices, free from the guidance of my anatomy or otherwise. I will support him in the future he writes for himself. I will not stand in his way.”

It’s not what she’s asked of him, not even close, and yet they both know Lucas was never going to offer her those assurances. They’re at an impasse, a stalemate where neither have any more moves available but the conversation is clearly far from over.

“Very well,” the Queen nods. “I won’t keep you any longer.” She turns to leave but pauses only a few steps down the hallway. Turning back to face him she inquires with an interest that reads entirely false, “Oh Mr. Lallemant, just one more thing.” He meets her eyes and waits for whatever is to come. “I forgot to ask,” she continues with a smile, “how is your mother?”

His blood runs cold and his thoughts white-out, static fills his ears. He’s barely able to speak over it. “She’s well, thank you.”

“Mmm,” the Queen hums. “I understand she’s at Haddon House. She likes it there?”

“She does.” His voice doesn’t shake, though it feels like every organ in his body is.

“Good.” She smiles. “I’m glad.” She turns and walks away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me:
> 
> My tumblr: surrealsunday
> 
> Also, I would like to apologize for the ice cream lost to melting and then Elu shenanigans in this chapter. A true tragedy.
> 
> Next chapter likely the same time next weekend!


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's right! A day early! 'Cause I loves you guys. More social media than ever before and this chapter truly tried to kill me but I got. shit. done. *flexes*
> 
> As always, chapter header graphic by Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr)! <3

Lucas stands in the doorway, staring down the hallway with eyes glazed over unseeing for longer than he would ever admit. His thoughts are moving too quickly and not quickly enough.

“What are you doing?”

The voice permeates but slowly. It’s not until Chloe is standing directly in front of him that he hears the words she’s spoken.

“Sorry.” He bodily shakes himself into the present. “I was just thinking.”

“Well geez,” she laughs lightly, “clearly that is something you shouldn’t be doing. You looked like you were having an aneurysm or something.”

She speaks with good humour but there’s a tone to her voice that hasn’t been there over the past couple of weeks, a sadness to it. “What’s wrong?” He asks immediately and her eyes widen in surprise.

“I–” Her shoulders slump and she deflates, giving up her cheery charade. “Lucille and I were going to spend the day together.”

“Oh?” Lucas reaches forward to brush her hair back from her face as she tips her head down in defeat. “And I assume from your especially giddy countenance, nothing has gone wrong and you’re looking forward to your wonderful date with your girlfriend?”

She glances back up with an eye-roll and slight smile. “She has to attend a lunch with Eliott and the Queen.”

Lucas cringes. “Well, that sounds like nothing I would ever want to be a part of.” He pokes Chloe’s cheek. “I’m sure Lucille doesn’t either.”

Chloe shrugs, a pout remaining firmly in place.

“Hey.” Lucas reaches forward to cup her cheeks in his hands and squishes them forward and together, pressing her mouth into an exaggerated pucker. She raises an eyebrow unimpressed. “What do you say to fucking off for the day? Yann’s coming to pick me up. Come with. Fuck this place.”

She reaches up to pull his hands away from her face before she answers. “What if Lucille comes looking for me after their lunch?”

“Babe,” Lucas sighs, “you really want to be that available to her? Just waiting here until she can make time for you?”

“No.” Chloe’s face scrunches. “But I don’t want to play games either. I just want to spend time with her.”

“I’m not saying play games,” Lucas clarifies. “All I’m saying is that your life shouldn’t stop for her, yeah? Come hang with us today. If Lucille wants you, she’ll find you.”

“But,” Chloe bites her lip, looking truly miserable, “what if she doesn’t? What if she doesn’t find me because–”

“Listen,” Lucas cuts her off, “don’t ask me how I know, I will not be taking questions or comments, but that woman wants you. Like… clearly appreciates all the delights that are one Chloe Jeanson.”

His phone buzzes and he pulls it out to check the messages as Chloe gapes at him. It’s Yann.

_Your chariot awaits._

“Lucas,” Chloe begins, her tone overtly suspicious, “why did you say it like that? What did you see?”

“No questions or comments!” Lucas yells, pushing Chloe further into the hall as he moves out of his room, grabbing his keys and locking the door behind him. “Yann’s here. Let’s go!”

“Lucas,” she warns as he swings an arm around her and begins steering them both down the hall. “What are you keeping from me?”

“Absolutely nothing!” Lucas insists with a laugh. He pulls away, turning to walk backwards in front of her. He wiggles an eyebrow. “Definitely have no idea what you sound like asking her for _more, ungh Lucy, more.”_

“Lucas!” She screeches. And he’s happy to see her previously woeful expression has been replaced by one of sheer horror… mixed with a whole lot of ‘I am going to kill you’.

He turns and bolts down the hallway, laughing as he listens to her give chase. It’s going to be a good day. _Fuck this place._

* * * *

*** * * ***

Their lunch and afternoon hangout somehow drags into the evening and then into the late night hours. Though it’s perhaps not an unknown factor that allowed this to happen. Chloe had been pretty insistent on enjoying herself at lunch with some cocktails. And who were Yann and Lucas to turn down a delightfully fruity and sugary drink? No one was driving. They were within walking distance of Yann’s place, it was the weekend, and they all - or at least Chloe and Lucas – absolutely had a ‘fuck it’ sort of attitude to life on this particular day and so, fueled by sugar and alcohol they had gone back to Yann’s, and played video games for hours upon hours. It turned out Chloe was somehow exceptionally good despite never having played before. Or so she said. Lucas’s accusation that she was a no-good slimy cheater had resulted in a wet willy courtesy of the girl-turned-video-game-pro in question and he’d learned his lesson. They’d ordered pizza for dinner and were now sprawled across the limited furniture and floor space the apartment allowed. The alcohol has long since worn off, but the lazy quality of the afternoon and excess of food had resulted in the same sort of lethargic, relaxed state, and neither of them had any great interest in moving.

“You can just stay if you want,” Yann suggests from where he’s slumped in the reading chair. “Lucas can bunk with me and you can have the couch, Chloe.”

Lucas snorts. “Stop trying to get me into bed, Cazas. It didn’t work when we were sixteen. Sure isn’t gonna work now.” Yann laughs.

“Wait – you tried to get Yann into bed with you at sixteen?” Chloe asks laughing.

“That is literally the exact opposite of what I just said,” Lucas objects. “I just said _he_ tried to get _me_ into bed.”

“Well yeah but obviously that means the opposite is true.” Chloe snorts.

Yann breaks into obnoxious laughter. “Chloe, you are fucking great. How have we not hung out before?”

“‘Cause you’re the fancy Chef and we didn’t have this bozo bringing us together, I guess,” she answers from where she’s sprawled on her stomach on the couch. She swings out a hand to smack Lucas where he lays on the ground next to her.

“Wait,” Yann raises his head in interest, turning to look directly at Chloe. “You single?”

Lucas snorts loudly.

“Sorry,” she giggles. “Very gay.”

“Oh damn,” Yann sighs. “Or sorry. I don’t mean ‘damn’ like it’s a bad thing you’re gay, I just mean–”

“It’s ok,” she laughs. “I’m flattered. You’re hot.”

“So are you,” Yann grins.

“Ok, ok,” Lucas interrupts. “Enough with the lovefest. We’re all very hot, we know. Chloe’s also very much not single.”

“Oh yeah?” Yann grins in interest. “Got yourself a woman, do you?”

Chloe’s smile dims and she drops her head to the pillow she’s hugging. “I don’t know.”

“What?” Lucas scrunches his face looking at her. “What are you talking about? Of course you do.”

“She hasn’t even texted me, Lucas,” Chloe whispers, her eyes instantly filling with tears. “You said she’d find me if she wanted. She didn’t.”

“Who?” Yann breaks in. “Who hasn’t?”

“Lucille,” Chloe replies quietly. Lucas had been prepared to leave it generally as ‘Chloe’s girlfriend’ and looks at her in surprise.

“Lucille?!” Yann asks shocked. “Like Lucille as in Eliott’s–” He cuts off when Lucas shoots him a warning look.

“Yes,” Chloe answers miserably.

“Chloe,” Lucas sits up and places a comforting hand on her back, “she’s dealing with a lot of shit from the Queen right now. The expectations on her and Eliott are–”

“I know that, Lucas!” Chloe bites angrily, sitting up now too. “But that doesn’t mean she can’t text me, tell me she misses me. Something! Anything!”

“Yeah I know,” he agrees. “I’m just saying we don’t know what happened today. The Queen was on a bit of a warpath when she left mine. If she had those two in her sights today, I just… well I wouldn’t want to be Lucille OR Eliott today.”

“Left yours?” Chloe and Yann ask simultaneously.

Shit. He hadn’t actually meant to reveal that bit. He’s off his game today. But he’s just really tired of keeping it all to himself.

He exhales heavily. “Yeah. Uh, she came to have a wee little chat about her son with me.” He glances from Chloe to Yann, but neither of them look particularly shocked by this news. “Eliott and I – uh, we’ve sort of been–”

“Sleeping together,” Chloe finishes for him.

“What?! No!” He disagrees loudly. “Or, I mean – yeah. But not like – we haven’t – we’ve just screwed around a couple times. We’re not like…” He looks between the two of them. “Why do neither of you look shocked?”

“I mean,” Yann shrugs, “I figured if you weren’t already you would be soon. That guy is so obvious it makes my eyes bleed to see you two together.”

“Same,” Chloe agrees with a shrug.

“What…” Lucas stares at them both. “Are people talking about us?” That could be a very serious problem and huge impediment to Eliott spreading rumours about himself and Niccolò.

Chloe shakes her head. “Daphne is clueless if that’s what you’re worried about.” It was actually. Everyone knows all gossip flows through Daphne. If she doesn’t know then he’s safe for now.

“Ok good.” Lucas twists his phone anxiously in his hands. “Because we’re not like – it’s not a thing. It just happened a couple times. It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh hunh.” Chloe raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced.

“And that’s why the Queen came to see you?” Yann asks disbelievingly. “Because it’s not a big deal?”

“Oh no,” Lucas dismisses with a wave of his hand. “That was because she caught us in the kitchen last night covered in ice cream after I gave Eliott a blowjob on the kitchen table.”

 _Now_ Yann and Chloe look shocked. Lucas smirks satisfied.

“You did WHAT?!” Yann chokes out before shutting his eyes pained and pinching the bridge of his nose. “The kitchen table?! MY kitchen? Oh god the appliances must be traumatized.”

Lucas snorts. “Yeah I think your stove got quite the show.”

Yann groans miserably. “Why’d you have to do it there?!!” 

“That’s where the ice cream was.” Lucas shrugs.

“How was ice cream involved in…” Chloe trails off before quickly raising her hands as Lucas opens his mouth. “No! No, I changed my mind, I don’t want to know!” She presses her hands to her ears and squeezes her eyes shut. “I don’t want to know!”

“C’mon, Chloe. You honestly telling me if you could pair something like ice cream and Lucille you wouldn’t go for it?”

“Wait,” Yann interrupts, suddenly looking very concerned. “The _Queen_ knows you two are sleeping together?”

Lucas shrugs, not particularly wanting to get into that part of the retelling. “It’s fine, Yann. She doesn’t like me. I still have my job. That’s the summary. Relax.”

“Lucas,” Yann begins, voice stern and clearly gearing up for a lecture.

Lucas’s phone blessfully decides at that moment to buzz in his pocket and he raises a finger to quiet Yann as he pulls it out. He looks down at his phone… well, well, well… “Chloe, where’s your phone?”

“What?” She asks lowering her hands and scrunching her nose. “What are you talking about? It’s in my jacket.”

“Go get it,” he suggests.

“I didn’t miss any messages, Lucas,” Chloe sighs. “I have the sound on.” She does as she’s told anyways and stands to retrieve her phone.

“Well?” Lucas asks watching as Chloe stares down at it.

She looks up, mouth dropped open. “It’s dead.”

“Yeah,” Lucas laughs. “I figured.”

“Oh my god!” She rushes over to him. “This stupid freaking battery! How did you know?”

“Lucille,” Lucas admits. “She just texted me.” He hands his phone over to Chloe, Lucille’s message open on the screen.

_Hi Lucas it’s Lucille. I hope you don’t mind Eliott gave me your number. Would you happen to know where Chloe is? She’s not answering her phone. I’ve been trying all day._

“Lucas!” Chloe shouts. “Oh god. We need to go back. Can we go back?” She waves his phone about her as she gestures wildly.

Lucas laughs, sharing an amused smile with Yann. “I’ll let her know we’re on our way home.” He reaches to take back his phone. “And order us a ride.”

Chloe squeals excitedly and falls forward to hug Lucas tightly around the neck. “Thank you! Thank you!” 

They quickly help Yann clean up the mess they’ve made of the coffee table and then collect their things to leave.

“Thank you so much for today, Yann,” Chloe smiles, giving him a hug goodbye.

“My pleasure, Chloe,” Yann returns her hug. “Good luck with your girl.” Chloe grins happily and leads the way out of the apartment.

Lucas follows.

“Hey Lucas,” Yann calls as Lucas steps into the hall. Lucas turns back to look at him. “You better have disinfected the fuck out of that table.”

Lucas scoffs loudly. “What do you take me for? Of course I did!”

Yann narrows his eyes for a moment but nods and with a wave goodbye shuts the door.

 _Oh fuck._ The table.

* * * *

Chloe books it from him the moment they’re through the back door without even bothering with a goodbye. Lucas finds it more hilarious than he does insulting. He’s happy for her really. Lucille had texted again when they were in their ride and asked Lucas to relay the message that she’d planned a surprise for Chloe, and would Lucas please ask Chloe to join her in her room once they’d gotten back? Chloe had squealed so loudly at that news Lucas wouldn’t be surprised if both he and the driver had permanent ear damage.

He chuckles as he watches Chloe sprint away and then out of sight as she turns down the hallway towards the main foyer. _Ahhhh young love._ When he rounds the corner to the staff quarters it’s to the sight of Eliott sitting on the floor, back against the door to Lucas’s room. He looks up quickly at the sound of Lucas approaching.

Lucas can’t even bother to pretend to be surprised by the sight. “Princeling, please tell me it wasn’t the morning kitchen staff who cleaned up the ice cream and whatever other bodily fluids we left behind.”

Eliott, whose mouth had already been open to speak, looks entirely derailed. His forehead wrinkles as he digests Lucas’s question. “What? No of course not. I cleaned up.”

“You cleaned up?” Lucas replies, surprised.

“Of course.” Eliott is giving Lucas a look from his continued position sitting on the floor that very clearly says he’s finding Lucas especially confusing at the moment. “Who else?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas admits with a shrug, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Figured you had little cleaning elves you could call on or something.”

“Afraid not,” Eliott smiles. “I wouldn’t have wished that scene on even the most industrious of cleaning elves.”

Lucas exhales a laugh. “Yeah I guess that’s fair. Well thanks.” He comes to stand in front of Eliott, tapping his foot into Eliott’s. “For cleaning up after us.”

“Where were you?”

Lucas looks up from Eliott’s shoes in surprise only to see that Eliott’s face is flushed. He looks chagrined as though he hadn’t meant to ask.

“What?” Lucas asks confused.

“Today,” Eliott clarifies, apparently committed to the question now that it’s out there. “You were gone all afternoon and–” He drops his gaze and his hand goes to his hair, playing distractedly in the strands. “It’s really late to be getting back.”

“Uh, ok.” _What the fuck?_ “Didn’t realize I had a curfew.”

Eliott bites his lip, looking back up at Lucas. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What did you mean?”

“I was just curious,” Eliott replies eyes going to his hands where he spins one of the rings on his fingers. “Like if you and Chloe went to the bar or something.”

“The bar?” Alright now Lucas is just truly confused. What the hell is Eliott getting at? “Why would you be curious about that?” 

Eliott shrugs looking uncomfortable and nervous. “I just wondered who you saw. Like if you saw… Mary or like… that Leon guy.”

“That Leon guy?” Lucas asks incredulous. “This is about Leon?” Eliott _cannot_ be serious.

Eliott looks up, jaw clenched and stubborn tilt to his brow. “Well did you?”

“No Eliott,” Lucas snaps. “I didn’t go to a bar in my sweats to hook-up with fucking Leon. This might come as a shock, but I don’t need to be fucking someone every hour of every day.”

Eliott pushes off his thighs to a stand. And while Lucas is normally quite partial to the way he has to tilt his head up to look at Eliott, at the moment it’s nothing but irritating. There’s a scowl resting on Eliott’s face and he doesn’t look satisfied with Lucas’s answer.

“But will you?” Eliott asks.

“Will I what?!” Lucas expels in a giant gust of frustrated air. “Throw on my best whoring jeans and rush out to fuck Leon? No, Eliott! Jesus. What the fuck is your problem?”

“No?” Eliott isn’t put-off by Lucas’s anger. “No as in not right now, or no as in not ever?”

Lucas laughs incredulous and utterly without humour as he pushes Eliott to the side and opens the door to his room, not turning around as he walks in and answers. “I spent the day sitting on my ass playing video games with Chloe and Yann. I wasn’t with Leon, ok?”

The door slams behind them. “But do you want to be?”

Lucas spins around, past the point of simple frustration now and truly pissed off. “No! I don’t give a shit about Leon. I don’t want him. What the fuck?!”

“No?” Eliott face transforms, a breathtaking smile breaking across it.

“Uh… yeah.” This conversation is giving Lucas whiplash. He flounders a little in an attempt to catch up with the sudden change of mood. “I mean, no. Leon’s… nothing. Whatever.” Wow. Really eloquent, Lucas. Well done.

It seems to do the trick however because suddenly Eliott is pushing into his space, backing Lucas up against the wall next to his bed, Eliott’s smile is so large his whole face is changed by it. He presses a hand back into Lucas’s hair, and Lucas’s eyes involuntarily flutter at the touch.

“Ok,” Eliott whispers, running his thumb gently across Lucas’s eyebrow.

“Ok,” Lucas whispers back, dumbfounded and unsure what else to do.

Eliott drops to his knees. He _drops to his knees_. Oh fuck. Lucas stares down at him, mouth fallen open. Is this happening or did Lucas trip and fall into a parallel universe where Eliott has decided somehow a fight about Leon ends in him giving Lucas a blowjob? Eliott presses his face forward, burying it in the soft cotton pants and breathing hotly over where Lucas is embarrassed to realize his cock is already rapidly filling.

“Eliott,” he croaks, voice pathetically affected.

Eliott looks up at him, his hands running up the backs of Lucas’s legs until they come to rest on his ass. He squeezes each cheek in a hand, kneading the flesh before he moves them up, fingers hooking into the waistband of Lucas’s sweats at his hips. He keeps his eyes on Lucas as he leans forward again, gently running his lips against where the outline of Lucas’s erection is becoming obvious, plumping against the cotton.

“Can I?” Eliott asks, lips moving against the material as he speaks. He runs his lips back and forth, encouraging Lucas’s cock to fatten further.

“Fuck.” Lucas tilts his head back, knocking it against the wall behind him. “Yes.”

Eliott pulls down his sweats and briefs gently, letting the elastic band drag against the skin, setting Lucas’s senses on fire. Eliott sits back slightly on his heels, biting his lip as he stares at Lucas, now straining, hard in front of him.

Lucas snorts at the sight. “It doesn’t come with an instruction manual, sorry.”

Eliott smiles, amused, blinking up at Lucas. He leans forward and kisses the tip, keeping his lips close as he speaks. “Too bad.” His bottom lip rubs the underside of the head. “Could’ve used it like a cheat sheet.”

“Yeah,” Lucas breathes. Fuck. What were they talking about again?

“How do you like it?” Eliott asks, brushing his lips around the head of Lucas’s cock but touching him in no other way. It’s driving Lucas insane.

“What?”

Eliott grins and repeats himself. “How do you like it?”

Lucas exhales a shaky laugh. “It’s you. You could give me the worst, sloppiest blowjob in the world and I’d still probably pop off in under two minutes.” It’s maybe a little too honest but Eliott is sitting, mouth a few centimeters from Lucas’s dick, and still hasn’t touched Lucas, and well, desperation brings out the honestly in him. And he’s not joking. Eliott hasn’t even gotten his mouth on him, and Lucas already feels more than halfway there.

Eliott laughs and the heat of his breath makes Lucas groan. “Well,” Eliott says, still smiling, “we’ll try to do a little better than the worst blowjob in the world, yeah? Let’s at least aim for ‘pretty ok’.” He winks.

“Ok,” Lucas agrees stupidly. He can hear himself and _god_ , he sounds like an absolute moron, but it can’t be all that bad when it has Eliott laughing again. He falls forward presses a wet kiss to the skin he finds, before turning his head and mouthing at the base of Lucas’s cock. Lucas gasps, hand going immediately to Eliott’s hair, grasping for purchase in the soft strands. Eliott moves his lips softly along the length until he reaches the tip, bestowing it another kiss before he sinks down.

And it’s… better than ‘pretty ok’. As Eliott’s mouth swallows him again and again, Lucas loses himself to it. He’s somehow present but not; somehow in his body, feeling every sensation as though for the first time, every nerve ending in his body alight, and yet, he’s simultaneously floating above the moment when the sensations become too much. He’s making noises he never has before and each time Eliott draws a new one from him, he seems to take it as encouragement, going down on Lucas with such voracious enthusiasm, that even in the middle of it, when Lucas can’t form thought beyond the immediate pleasure coursing through him, he knows. He still knows. This is it. This will ruin him for anyone else. It’s not as devastating a thought as he would have expected. But then maybe that’s because he’s on the brink of orgasm. Or maybe that’s because it’s Eliott.

“Lucas,” Eliott speaks, pulling off, his voice raspy. His hand is still moving, stroking Lucas off with a grip so perfectly slick and tight, Lucas can’t believe he ever settled for the feel of his own hand when Eliott was right there. Surely Eliott doesn’t expect Lucas to respond right now. Lucas squeezes his eyes more tightly shut, head tipped back against the wall, and concentrates on not coming. Not yet. “Lucas,” Eliott repeats, but his hand doesn’t slow. “Lucas, look at me.”

Lucas opens his eyes. He has to take a few, shuddering, deep breaths before he can tip his head to look down. And there’s Eliott, kneeling in front of him, lips red and swollen, big hand wrapped around Lucas, pupils nearly blackening the colour of his eyes. Lucas is suddenly painfully present, all there, in this moment. He can feel his orgasm rushing to the surface, and he knows he won’t be able to stop it.

“El–” Lucas grunts desperately, his hand tightening in Eliott’s hair.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Eliott rasps with a smile and takes Lucas back into his mouth.

Lucas couldn’t take his eyes off him if he tried at this point. They’re locked on Eliott, burning with his need not to blink, not to miss even a split second of this, the sight of his cock disappearing into Eliott’s mouth, Eliott’s red lips wrapped around him, a dribble of spit trailing from the corner of Eliott’s mouth down his chin. He keeps them on Eliott until he can’t any longer, until his body takes over and his orgasm rushes through him. His eyes squeeze shut, and he comes with a sharp cry. Eliott opens his mouth and pulls back, jerking Lucas until it’s not just his tongue receiving Lucas’s orgasm, but his lips and cheeks as well. It’s not a sight Lucas ever thought he’d see. Not in any universe.

Eliott moves while Lucas is still shaking with the aftershocks. He stands quickly, falling into Lucas, and dropping his head into Lucas’s neck as he fumbles to unzip his pants. He’s shaking as badly as Lucas, and he groans desperately the moment he gets a hand around himself. His body lurches with his movements as he pulls himself off. Lucas reaches down, slapping Eliott’s hand away and replaces it with his own. Eliott moans Lucas’s name, and his arms come up to wrap around Lucas’s shoulders, pulling them together in a tight hug. It’s sweet, and it feels unreasonably good to be wrapped in Eliott’s arms, but it impedes Lucas’s movements immensely.

“Princeling,” he whispers into Eliott’s neck, kissing the small mole he finds there, “lift up… let me…” He keeps one hand on Eliott’s cock, and uses the other to hold Eliott’s hip, pushing at him slightly.

Eliott shakes his head and squeezes Lucas even closer, burying his head more deeply into Lucas’s neck and breathing hotly over the skin. “No, no,” he gasps. “Like this. Like this.”

Lucas puffs an amused breath, pressing another kiss to Eliott’s neck. He can’t move his arm much, but he makes do as best he can, concentrating on the head of Eliott’s cock. It doesn’t take long. Eliott’s arms tighten, crushing Lucas even more desperately towards himself, and then he’s shuddering and coming into Lucas’s hand with moan, whispering Lucas’s name over and over again as he shakes through it.

Eliott is in no hurry to release his hold as he recovers. His arms remain locked around them and he’s pressing soft kisses to Lucas’s neck that have goosebumps rising across Lucas’s skin. Lucas shifts his shoulders, bumping into Eliott until he gets his message across and Eliott begins to loosen his hold.

“Let me clean up,” Lucas suggests with a slight laugh. “You made a mess of me.”

Eliott pulls his arms back, releasing his hold entirely. Lucas turns away. Reaching for the Kleenex next to his bed, he quickly cleans off his hand, tossing the tissues into the garbage and tucks himself away, pulling his pants back up.

“Sorry.”

Lucas looks to Eliott in surprise. “Did you just apologize for spunking in my hand after giving me the best head of my life?”

Eliott’s eyes jerk up from where they’d been focused on doing his pants back up. “Best head of your life?” A smile blinks to life on his face.

Lucas shrugs. “I give compliments when they’re due.” He hands Eliott the tissues before he flops down to his bed, resting with his back pressed to the wall and arm on a bent leg. “And uh – you weren’t kidding about being good.” It’s not nearly the extent of compliment Eliott deserves but Lucas is going to blame that on the orgasm. That he’s forming sentences at all feels like accomplishment enough.

Eliott tosses the tissues he’s used to clean his face and smiles pleased, hand rising to brush a thumb against his puffy lower lip in a way that is far too distracting considering Lucas literally just came. _What the fuck, dick?!_

“Um,” Eliott shifts back and forth on his feet, “I guess I should go. It’s late.”

Lucas nods. He’s not normally one for rolling over and into an immediate sleep post-orgasm but tonight feels like it might be a first in that respect.

“It’s just,” Eliott continues, “I wanted to mention – um…” His fingers pull at his lower lip as he stumbles over his words. “My mom said she came to see you?”

Lucas’s eyebrows pull together. “Damn, Eliott. Way to bury the lead. And was that a question?”

“No.” Eliott shakes his head frustrated with himself. “Sorry.” He drops his hand and stands more upright, meeting Lucas’s eyes. “She told me she came to see you and I wanted to apologize. I had no idea she would do that.”

“It’s not your fault, Eliott,” Lucas says, scratching at a stain left of the knee of his sweats. It looks like pizza sauce.

“Was she very rude?” Eliott asks tentatively, as though he’s convinced Lucas is going to start yelling at any moment.

“Well she was very,” Lucas throws his voice higher, making it shrill and outraged, “ _Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?”_ He shrugs with a smile _._ “But I’m used to shit like that.”

“She said you weren’t very agreeable.”

Lucas looks up at him quickly. Eliott doesn’t look unhappy about it. In fact, he looks pretty damn happy. Lucas rolls his eyes. “I don’t think either of us were at our most agreeable, no.”

“She said you refused her request to end our friendship.”

Well that’s not at all how their conversation went. Neither of them had been upfront enough to word themselves that explicitly. But Lucas can understand why she’d relayed that as the summary.

Lucas shrugs. “ _She said, she said, she said,_ ” he mimics. “If there’s something you want to know, Princeling, just ask. Get it from the horse’s mouth right here.”

Eliott huffs a little, amused. “I thought she would have successfully warned you off.”

“Nah,” Lucas denies with a cheeky smile. “You’re alright. Think I’ll keep you around. Even if you do have stupid hair.”

“Stupid hair?!” Eliott squawks offended, hand instantly going to his hair, currently an especially unruly mess thanks to Lucas.

“That’s right,” Lucas nods seriously. “But I’ve gotten used to it. That and your ridiculous lips. I mean, who needs lips like that, Princeling? I’ll tell you who – _no one_ outside of porn.”

Eliott’s smiling now, a pretty blush colouring the apple of his cheeks. “So just my hair and my lips you had to get used to then?”

“I mean, we could talk about those eyes of yours and ridiculous hands, but I’ll pace myself. Don’t want to damage that ego of yours too irreparably.”

“That’s nice of you. I appreciate you sparing me.” Eliott’s eyes scrunch with his smile.

“Yes, well I’m known for my kindness,” Lucas sniffs. “And god knows even an ego like yours has its limits. If I’d mentioned that absolutely outrageous dick of yours, you would have left here crying.”

Eliott laughs. “Well I guess I should leave while I’m ahead then.”

“Your ego will thank you,” Lucas agrees.

Eliott pauses as he reaches the door. “For the record though,” he turns to grin at Lucas, “if anyone has stupid hair, it’s you.”

“Oh, is that right, sasspup?” Lucas asks, eyebrows raised in challenge.

“Yes, that’s right,” Eliott nods. “It’s Disney Prince hair, Lucas. Who needs hair like that outside of fiction?”

Lucas laughs happily. “Well you got me there.” 

Eliott opens the door with a final sweet smile. “Oh and Lucas?”

“Mmm?” Lucas hums, before yawning widely.

Eliott watches him, a familiar sort of affection written across his face. “Brian wanted me to tell you he misses you.”

“Does he now?” Lucas grins.

“Mmhmm,” Eliott confirms. “So, you should probably come visit him before he forgets you and decides he likes Idriss.”

“Well I definitely can’t have that.”

“No,” Eliott agrees.

They smile at one another for a moment.

“Good night, Lucas.”

“Night, Princeling.”

* * * *

* * * *

* * * *

* * * *

Idriss moves to turn the music in the gym off. They’ve just finished a solid training session, working on hand-to-hand, and Lucas has to admit he’s never been this well-conditioned. Training with Idriss has done his body good.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Idriss asks as he returns to Lucas.

“Smiling like what?” Lucas smiles.

Idriss’s eyes narrow. “You’re thinking something dirty.”

“That I am dear Idriss.” Lucas slaps a hand to Idriss’s back. “That I am. You sure you want the details?”

“Ugh, good point. No.” He shakes his head. “Keep your dirty musings about me to yourself.”

Lucas sighs exaggeratedly. “You’re no fun now that you’re a happily married man.”

“Shut up!” Idriss laughs, pushing Lucas away from him. “Hey.” He grabs Lucas’s arm just as they reach the door to leave the gym, stopping him.

Lucas looks at him curiously. “What?”

Idriss pauses, hand dropping back to his side. He inhales deeply. “So, Prince Niccolò arrives tomorrow.”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Yeah. And?”

“And have you seen Eliott?”

“You know I haven’t,” Lucas answers and doesn’t bother to keep the irritation out of his tone. “He’s been busy 24/7 with his mother getting everything prepared or whatever-the-fuck.”

“Not 24/7,” Idriss replies, eyebrow raised.

“I haven’t seen him since Saturday,” Lucas states, patience thinning. “Which I’m sure you know. Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”

Idriss shrugs unconcerned. “Yeah he told me about Saturday.” Idriss’s face scrunches a little in disgust in recalling. “A little too much about Saturday if I’m honest.”

Lucas chuckles. “Yeah well if he was bragging, he earned it.”

Idriss raises a threatening finger. “No. Not you too. I get enough of it from him.”

“You brought it up,” Lucas points out. “ _Not 24/7_ ,” he mocks. “You were basically telling me to booty-call your best friend but suddenly you’re scandalized by the details?”

Idriss shoves his shoulder none-too-gently. “That’s not what I was telling you to do, you asshole.” 

“Then what did you mean?” Lucas sighs, irritated. “You and Eliott and your goddamn subtly, man. It’s exhausting.”

“Damn,” Idriss snorts. “Never thought I’d hear someone call Eliott subtle. That idiot is anything but subtle when it comes to you.”

“Yeah well,” Lucas scoffs, shuffling uncomfortably back-and-forth on the balls of his feet, “you’d be surprised.”

“Yah maybe,” Idriss agrees. “Anyways that wasn’t my point. Just thought maybe you guys would want to hang out before the Prince got here.”

“Why?” In truth, Lucas would have liked to hang out with Eliott before the Prince and his entourage arrive, if only to get an idea of Eliott’s plan… so Lucas can help. That’s it. Eliott has a plan. A plan that will result in not only freeing Eliott from the guaranteed misery of his mother’s prearranged plans for him, but Lucille as well. And with her freedom, comes Chloe’s happiness. If Lucas can help, he will.

Idriss looks at him incredulously. “I don’t know, Lucas. So you two could talk? Figure out what the fuck Niccolò being here means.”

“We both know what it means.” Lucas knows what Idriss is getting at, but he has no interest in playing into this unnecessarily dramatic narrative.

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah? And how does you two fucking one another every chance you get work into that?” Idriss raises an eyebrow like he’s just said something that will throw Lucas off.

“We’re not fucking one another every chance we get,” Lucas bites back. “Eliott and I screwing around doesn’t change anything.”

“Seriously?!” Idriss throws his hands up in exasperation.

“Yes, seriously. He has a plan. It’s a good one – or well, it’s a plan. The best option he’s got. I’m not fucking with that.” Why does no one understand that this doesn’t have to be so fucking dramatic? He and Eliott know what they’re doing.

“No, of course not. Just fucking with him.” Idriss’s voice is cold as he says it.

Is he serious? _What the fuck?!_ “What is it you’re actually trying to say? Spit it out.”

“I don’t even know,” Idriss sighs, immediately dropping his defensive posture. “It’s just – Niccolò being here will change things. I don’t want either of you getting hurt.”

“No one is going to get hurt.” Not if Lucas can help it. “Well, unless that Prince is a dick to Eliott in which case I’m kicking him in the balls,” he adds to lighten the mood. “Learned my lesson with Charles. Gotta take the opportunity when it presents itself.”

“He won’t be. He’s a good guy. He and Eliott are good together.” Idriss watches Lucas’s reaction carefully. It feels like being under a microscope.

“Good. That’s good.” It is. It _is_. The idea shouldn’t make him as uncomfortable as it does.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. So… we done here, or you want to tiptoe around saying what you mean for a while longer?” He stares at Idriss expectantly.

“You are so fucking insufferable, you know that?”

“It’s one of my finer qualities.”

* * * *

* * * *

Lucas isn’t afraid to admit he hides out in the garage in the days following Prince Niccolò’s arrival. He’s not considered Front of House staff and there are no expectations on him to be present when the Prince and his entourage arrive. Not like there are on Yann, and Chloe and Daphne. And so, Lucas takes full advantage and avoids the entire affair like the plague. It’s not that he’s not curious. He is. He’s desperate to see the Prince in person and size him up for himself. Chloe of course gives him a summary of the days events every evening so he’s not without an ear to the gossip and happenings in the Palace. But it’s not like there’s a lot of opportunity for Lucas to interact with the Prince, not unless he were into cars and sought out the garage. And that hasn’t happened. And Eliott is… well, Eliott is busy Lucas imagines. Lucas could probably text him and see how things are going, see how the plan is progressing, but Lucas just hasn’t felt the desire to get into it yet. He’s busy with the cars. The ball to welcome the Prince is at the end of next week and the cars have to be ready.

Only, he’s been working day-in-day-out and they _are_ ready. Not in running condition of course but ready for a showcase at the ball. It’s all about the superficial aesthetics anyways, a chance for the Queen to flout her late-husband’s prized possessions. So, they’re ready. And there’s just… less distracting Lucas. And his mind wanders. Somewhere in this Palace there’s an Italian Prince wandering about and spending time with Eliott, and Lucas hasn’t even sized him up, hasn’t even deemed whether he’s any good for Eliott. And that’s not being a very good friend is it? At the very least he should check in with Eliott and see how he’s feeling about things… how far along his plan is coming.

Lucas reaches for his phone and pulls up the thread of Eliott’s messages, smiling at their last thread of conversation.

_How are things going with the Prince?_ He pauses before hitting send. It’s just … it’s basically the end of day. He’ll be done work in ten minutes. And Eliott _had_ said Brian missed him. Which was a very clear invite to come visit. He deletes the message and types:

_You around?_

Eliott replies immediately. **_Yes! Hi. What’s up? Do you want to hang out?_**

Lucas grins, instantly charmed. Fuck. How does he manage to be so cute in text form? _Ya. You in your room?_

 **_Yes. Just give me a couple minutes?_ ** ****

And well… that’s just an opportunity to tease. _Why? What are you doing ;)_

 **_Shut up! I’m just not there yet. But I’m going now._ **

Lucas laughs in disbelief… this idiot. _That is literally the opposite of what you said. If you’re not there it’s fine we can hang out another time._

 **_I am! I’m here. And Brian will be so disappointed if you don’t show up. I’m going to tell him you’re coming._ ** ****

_Oh well in that case. Don’t want to disappoint Brian._

**_Good. So you’re coming?_ **

_Be there in 10 so you better be as well._

**_I will be!!!_ **

Lucas is beyond tempted just to barge right in on Eliott. It had resulted in such a delightful sight last time. But alas, despite appearances, Lucas actually does respect privacy. He knocks on the door to Eliott’s room. A muffled crash is followed by the door swinging open to Eliott’s exuberant smile.

“Hi!”

Lucas laughs, pushing past him as he walks into the room. “What did you do?” He notices a tray and a number of books scattered on the floor.

Eliott shrugs, scrunching his shoulders up to his ears with a laugh. “I was just checking on Brian and your knock surprised me. I tipped them over by accident.” He moves to pick up the tray and sprawled books. “Didn’t expect you to be so polite – took me by surprise.”

Lucas grins and makes his way over to Brian’s terrarium. “As delightful as my last unannounced foray into your room was, it actually was an unintentional invasion of privacy. I was a little traumatized by my inadvertent foray into lesbian sex at the time.” He peers in at Brian who seems to be awake and raises his head, flicking his tongue out quickly to test scents in the air.

Eliott chuckles coming to stand beside Lucas. “Did you ever tell Chloe?”

Lucas laughs, remembering that particular conversation. “Told her I heard them through the door. You think I’d be standing here if Chloe knew I’d been in the room? Wait – you didn’t tell Lucille did you?”

“Of course not,” Eliott scoffs, affronted.

Lucas relaxes his previously tense posture. “Ok good. I could probably handle Chloe but Lucille is way more intimidating.”

Eliott reaches into the terrarium to lift Brian out as he speaks. “She’s really not.”

“Eh.” Lucas watches Eliott carefully as Brian moves in his hands. “You’re just saying that because you guys were cute, snot-covered kids together.”

“I was never snot-covered,” Eliott objects. He steps closer to Lucas. “You want to hold him?”

Lucas nods. “Yeah.”

Eliott hands him over gently and Brian goes willingly, immediately encircling Lucas’s thumb and resting his head against the pad. “Did you miss him?”

“Maybe a little,” Lucas admits. “It’s weird he can be so cute.”

“Why is that weird?” Eliott asks confused.

Lucas shrugs. “I don’t know. I just never thought snakes could be cute.”

“Well that’s silly. Snakes are the cutest.”

Lucas looks up to see that Eliott is looking directly at him. “Shut up.” He turns and walks to sit down on Eliott’s bed with Brian still safely in his hands.

“What?” Eliott laughs, following him. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Uh huh.” Lucas rolls his eyes. “So, uh, how have things been?”

“Good,” Eliott replies easily. “Busy. It’s weird not seeing you.”

“It’s only been a few days,” Lucas laughs, refusing to admit he feels the same.

“Yeah well…” Eliott trails off with a shrug, reaching forward pet Brian.

“And um,” he glances up but Eliott’s eyes are on Brian, “with that Prince guy. How are things going there?”

“That Prince guy?” Eliott looks up now, clearly amused.

Lucas rolls his eyes. “Prince Niccolò. How have the first few days gone? Things going according to plan?”

“I don’t know.” Eliott’s eyes drop back down to Brian and there’s annoyance seeping into his tone. “Is Nico really what you want to talk about right now?”

Lucas looks at him surprised. “What–” A knock at the door interrupts him. He looks at Eliott in panic. What if it’s the Queen?! “Eliott should I hide?” He whispers rushed.

“What? No.” Eliott’s tone says he thinks Lucas is being ridiculous. He stands. “Why?”

“Eliott, what if it’s your mom?!” Lucas stands with him, eyes darting somewhat stupidly between Eliott and the snake sitting placidly in his own hands.

“It’s not going to be my mother,” he snorts. “It’s probably just Manon or Idriss.”

Manon or Idriss? Lucas let’s himself exhale the breath he was holding. Ok yes that makes sense. Neither will be surprised to see him in Eliott’s room. But Lucas has mentioned the part where he’s clearly fucked up enough in other universes that the gods truly hate him, right? Because, yeah, the gods truly hate him.

“Hey!” Prince Niccolò greets when Eliott opens the door. “I hope you don’t mind me coming to find you. I had to escape that meeting.” He speaks the language perfectly, though with a heavy accent.

Lucas’s heart stops at the sight of him.

“Oh uh,” Eliott fumbles in his surprise, “not at all. Please come in.” He motions for Niccolò to enter the room where Lucas stands frozen next to the bed, Brian in his hands and no clue what the fuck he’s supposed to be doing.

Niccolò catches sight of Lucas quickly and freezes before an enormous smile breaks across his face. “Hello.” He’s less intimidating than Lucas would have expected. He’s beautiful of course but there’s an easy, friendly quality about him, his smile just a little exaggerated and nerdy. It reminds Lucas entirely of Eliott. It’s an unnerving realization.

“Hi,” Lucas manages as Niccolò comes towards him.

“I’m Niccolò,” he says as he approaches with his hand extended in greeting.

Lucas raises Brian stupidly. “I’m Lucas. Sorry I uh–”

“A snake?” Niccolò laughs as he drops his hand and stops in front of Lucas, staring down at Brian in interest. Eliott comes to stand next to him. “He is yours?”

“He’s mine,” Eliott answers smiling at Lucas before he turns to Niccolò. “His name is Brian.”

Niccolò laughs a little and dips his head to peer down at Brian. He didn’t know Brian was Eliott’s. Niccolò hadn’t met the snake. He hasn’t been in Eliott’s room before. Lucas exhales.

“I should, um,” Lucas motions slightly using Brian to point to the terrarium, “I should put him back.”

Niccolò nods with an easy smile and steps back to let Lucas by. Lucas concentrates on the task of putting Brian gently back in his terrarium and fussing with the heat lamp as Niccolò and Eliott speak behind him.

“Your meetings went well?” Eliott asks.

“Yes, I suppose. I just wish such a fuss wasn’t made over me for the ball. I’m not good when it comes to these sorts of details. Back home my friend Silvia handles all these things and she knows better than to ask my opinion.”

Eliott chuckles. “Yes, well that’s my mother. And she’ll ask but just to be clear, she doesn’t actually want your opinion.”

“Well that’s maybe a relief,” Niccolò says with an exhaled laugh. “It feels odd to have focus on me anyways, when I won’t be the only foreign Royal family in attendance. I doubt Charles will appreciate me taking the spotlight.”

“Charles?!” Lucas whips around in horror before he has a moment to check himself. And he knows he shouldn’t speak out of turn like this – shouldn’t interrupt a conversation between the Princes – but Charles?! How could Eliott not have told him that?

Niccolò looks to him in surprise. “You know Charles?”

Eliott face reads apology as his eyes meet Lucas’s. “We didn’t think he was coming as he’d only just visited. But it seems he’s changed his mind. I think he feels he has unsettled business. He’s not staying with us. Only coming for the ball.” Eliott turns his head towards Niccolò to further explain. “Lucas met Charles during his last visit here a couple weeks ago.”

“Ah,” Niccolò nods. “And you are not a fan?” He directs the question at Lucas.

Lucas flicks his eyes to Eliott, unsure how honest he can be in front of the foreign Prince. “We… didn’t particularly get along when he was here.”

Niccolò laughs. “He’s an asshole. I know.”

Lucas stares at him in surprise while Eliott snorts.

“He visited Rome for my cousin’s wedding – she married a cousin of his – and I had the great pleasure of hosting him.” Niccolò’s voice drips with sarcasm. “It did not go well.”

“What happened?” Lucas asks, curiosity driving him to ask despite himself.

“One of our friends, Gio, tried to punch him after Charles insulted Marti.” Niccolò’s expression grows serious as he remembers. “Marti stopped him just in time or I would have had a pretty serious diplomatic incident on my hands. It’s just a good thing Elia wasn’t there too. There’s no way Marti could have stopped them both.”

“Jesus.” Lucas would like to say he’s at least partially successful at restraining the delighted smile spreading on his face… but that would be a lie. “Charles must have been pissed.”

Niccolò laughs abruptly. “I think he’s scared of Gio actually. He apparently laughed it off like it was an inside joke between them. But then,” he grins darkly, “he never did insult Marti again.” 

That there are guys a few countries away with just as deep a desire to punch Charles in the face as Lucas is somehow extraordinarily comforting. “Fuck,” Lucas chuckles. “Now I’m regretting not at least taking my shot when I had it. Your friends wouldn’t be coming to attend the ball, would they?”

Niccolò grins, shaking his head. “I’m sorry to disappoint. If I had my way, they would be, but it was my mother who decided who would accompany on this trip. For some reason she says the boys distract me from my duties.”

“Yah I wouldn’t know a thing about that,” Eliott comments, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

“I am a welcome distraction and you know it,” Lucas refutes, wagging a finger at Eliott before turning his attention back to Niccolò. “Well, guess I’ll just have to take one for the team and pop ‘im in the nose myself.”

“Don’t say that,” Eliott admonishes. “Don’t even joke about it.”

Lucas rolls his eyes and throws Niccolò a ‘you see what I put up with’ look. “Yeah, yeah. Charles is your untouchable bestie, I know.”

“God, you know that’s not it. I have to maintain an amiable relationship with him if Britain is to support me when–” He cuts off, eyes darting to Niccolò before he looks back at Lucas, brows furrowed. “And my mother is watching you now anyways. I don’t want her to have any excuses to–”

“Why’s he even coming back anyways? What unfinished business?” Lucas interrupts. Niccolò doesn’t need to know – _shouldn’t_ know – the details behind the Queen’s sudden interest in Lucas.

“Manon,” Eliott replies with all the enthusiasm of telling someone they’ve got less than two weeks left to live.

“Fuck.” Lucas can’t imagine how upset Manon and Idriss must be about that news.

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Niccolò interrupts gently. When Lucas turns to look at him, Niccolò is eyeing them both curiously. “I’m a little confused. How does Lucas fit in with – with everyone.”

Lucas tenses immediately. Fuck. He and Eliott are so useless. How did they not properly introduce Lucas? Now Niccolò is suspicious. And here Lucas is talking totally out-of-turn and even more outside the lines of protocol, without the Italian Prince having any idea how much lower ranked Lucas is in the grand Palace-centric scheme of things.

“I work here.” It comes out a lot more defensively than he meant it to.

Eliott moves to his side and then his hand is splaying across Lucas’s upper back. “Lucas is one of my best friends. He manages the car collection as well.” Eliott says smiling at Niccolò.

“Car collection?” Niccolò grins widely. “That’s really cool. I’ve barely explored since I got here. I’ll come by to see them one day?” It’s definitely a question the way his voice lilts up at the end.

Lucas nods reluctantly. “Um, yeah. Sure.”

“I’ll take you to see them,” Eliott agrees eagerly. His hand comes up to the back of Lucas’s neck, threading through the hair he finds there. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it and Lucas can’t help the way his face heats under the touch. “It’s incredible what Lucas has done.”

“Shut up,” Lucas scoffs, embarrassed. He shrugs off Eliott’s hand, stepping to the side and a little away from him. He just… he can’t _think_ with Eliott touching him like that. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Really?” Eliott asks amused. “Is that why you’re blushing? I didn’t even realize you knew how to do that,” he laughs.

Lucas rolls his eyes, shoving Eliott’s shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s my body’s way of trying to fight you off… like a particularly stubborn virus.”

“Right. Has nothing to do with your inability to take a compliment like a normal human being. A simple ‘thank you’ will do, you know.”

“You’re right. Where are my manners? Thanks, _asshole_.”

Lucas becomes aware at the same moment as Eliott that Niccolò is laughing. Or more accurately, doing a terrible job muffling his laughter.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles, hand raised in apology. “You just…” His eyes go a little wistful. “You remind me of someone.” He’s looking at Lucas.

Lucas holds his gaze, at first in challenge but then… there’s something about the way Niccolò is looking at him that makes it difficult to break the contact. There’s an intensity in his gaze despite the soft quality of his eyes. It’s familiar. It reminds Lucas of Eliott.

“Uh so,” Eliott bumps into Lucas’s side jostling him slightly, his hand comes to pull at Lucas’s shirt sleeve absentmindedly as he speaks to Niccolò, “my mother has you roped into formal dinner plans I’m sure?”

Niccolò returns his attention to Eliott, breaking eye contact, and Lucas exhales shakily. Something about Niccolò rattles him. It’s like he’s looking through Lucas. No, not through. Into Lucas. Like he already knows him, or like they already know one another. Lucas isn’t sure what to make of it. He feels… transparent.

“She does.” It’s definitely not news Niccolò should be relaying accompanied by the smile spread across his face. “So let’s ditch.”

“What?” Eliott’s hand drops from Lucas’s sleeve as he focuses on Niccolò in confusion.

Niccolò wobbles his head with a cheeky smile. “I’ve been stuck inside these walls for days. And Arthur told me the Museum of Modern Art will stay open late for us.”

Eliott’s breath catches and when Lucas turns to look at him, Eliott’s face has lit up, a smile stretching across it that makes him look far younger than his years. He speaks with excitement, “There’s an exhibition of Janet Cardiff and George Bures Miller’s work right now. I haven’t been yet.” 

“You know Janet Cardiff?” Niccolò asks, just as excited now.

“Yes!” Eliott is nearly vibrating out of his skin. “I saw their Memory Palace at the Venice Biennale.”

“What?!” Niccolò cries. “Without me? How dare you!”

Eliott giggles and it’s accompanied by a burning sensation in Lucas’s chest. It feels like heartburn. Maybe it is. He shouldn’t have eaten so many fries at lunch. It’s Yann’s fault for that delicious salt seasoning he puts on them.

“We didn’t know one another well yet,” Eliott insists. “It was so many years ago and we’d only met before a few times as children.”

“Fine,” Niccolò laughs. “You can make it up to me by helping me dodge my disagreeable dinner plans and coming to the Museum instead.” He looks at Lucas. “You are more than welcome to come as well, Lucas.”

Eliott turns to him quickly as though he’d totally forgotten Lucas was there. In fact, he probably had. He seems enraptured by Niccolò. And it’s fine. This is good. This is what they want. Eliott and Niccolò bonding. “Yes! Come with us, Lucas.”

“No, um,” Lucas scrambles for an excuse, “I should get going. I promised Chloe I’d have dinner with her.” He has a panicked moment of wondering if perhaps Chloe is with Lucille and Eliott will realize he’s lying. Eliott however doesn’t look suspicious, instead just looking disappointed.

“Are you sure?” He’s throwing major puppy-dog eyes Lucas’s direction.

“Yeah.” He’s sure. He’s _sure._ “Go. _Bond_. Have fun.” He gives Eliott a meaningful look and Eliott’s mouth immediately pulls down at the corners. “We’ll catch one another later.” He backs towards the door as both Eliott and Niccolò turn to watch him. They’re heart-stoppingly beautiful standing next to one another. It’s... a lot. It’s just a lot.

“It was really nice to meet you, Lucas,” Niccolò offers with a warm smile.

“You as well, Prince Niccolò.” Lucas is surprised to admit he means it. Of course the Italian Prince would have to end up being exactly as nice as everyone said he was. Of course he would. And now there’s two of them. Intimidatingly beautiful, overly nice and just… perfectly matched. Both Princes. Both lovely. Made for one another. Lucas hates it. He’ll admit it. Just this once. Privately. For no one else to hear. He hates it.

“Please call me Nico.”

 _God-fucking-dammit_. The super nice asshole.

Lucas offers a close-mouthed smile. “Ok.”

“Bye, Lucas,” Eliott calls gently, an unhappy aura surrounding him.

Lucas looks at him once, a lingering look, before he nods and leaves.

* * * *

* * * *

Eliott takes the hint and throws himself into bonding with Niccolò. _Nico_. Or at the very least that would appear to be the case. And not just to Lucas. Everyone has been talking about it. It’s _all the gossip_. “Did you hear the Princes went on a date to the Museum and spent _hours_ together? They didn’t come back until well into the evening!” Daphne had whispered excitedly, the first words out of her mouth when she’d joined them all sitting around the bench table at lunch. It was a rarity that they all took time to spend lunch together and Lucas had been enjoying it. He _had_ – past tense. Basile had joined in his girlfriend’s excitement adding that the two Princes had dined in Eliott’s room the night prior. “Just the two of them!” Basile had emphasized with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. Emma had felt the need to pipe up about how “fucking hot they are – and I don’t mean to be a perv,” Alex had snorted at that, “but like imagine sex between them” She’d fanned herself exaggeratedly. “What I would give to be a fly on the wall during those _dinners_ in Prince Eliott’s room.” She’d said the word ‘dinner’ as though everyone at the table were in agreement that it was anything but, code for much more explicit activities. Even Arthur, the most professional of them all (though that wasn’t saying much) and most likely to mock everyone else for gossiping, had admitted to catching the two in what seemed to be an intimate conversation in the hallway one day.

It was exactly what Eliott wanted – _needed_. For rumours like this to spread in such a way his mother would be forced to confront them. This was good. Great even. Why it felt then like every word was slicing through Lucas like a razor blade, he didn’t want to examine too closely. Chloe had been staring at him the whole time as it was, her gaze burning a hole in Lucas’s forehead. He’d ignored her entirely. She was just fussed because her own love life was so dramatic. She couldn’t possibly understand that it wasn’t the same for Lucas. No, he doesn’t _love_ the idea of Niccolò and Eliott… like, together… or doing more than just eating dinner in Eliott’s room or… whatever… but feeling a little possessive over Eliott doesn’t have to result in any sort of epic drama or heartbreak. He knows that’s what Chloe is worried about but she’s projecting her own insecurities and fears onto Lucas. When Yann had joined them Lucas fled entirely, retreating back to the garage. It’s one thing to manage the worried looks of one overly dramatic Chloe Jeanson, it’s a different thing entirely to endure looks from concerned best friend Yann Cazas.

Lucas spends the rest of the afternoon working on the Shelby engine. Because it’s not the actual mechanics of the engine that need to be ready for the ball, Lucas’s focus has been on the aesthetics. And while the cars are ready, one can never be too careful. Meaning clueless party guests dressed to the nines need to be able to enjoy a perusal of each car, hood up, engine available for the viewing, without a speck of dirt – or god forbid engine grease – ending up on their person. Because _oh no, no, no,_ that would be a scandal. One wants to appreciate the aesthetics only. One is not to be reminded of the work that went into achieving that beauty.

He gets distracted in his work of course and it’s not long before he’s elbows deep in tasks he has no need to tackle prior to the ball. The music playing over the speakers is at a soft enough volume that he’s very aware of the sound of the door to the garage from the hallway opening and footsteps approaching him from behind. He smiles down at the engine before him, moving the wrench distractedly to a bolt that in no way needs loosening.

“What are you doing?” Eliott asks gently from over his shoulder.

“What does it look like?” Lucas asks without looking up.

“Playing football.”

Lucas turns his head to grin at Eliott. “Well what do you say, sasspup? Give it a try?”

“What?” Eliott asks, nose scrunching as he looks down at the car engine. _Adorable_. “You want me to tighten a screw?”

“I’m loosening a bolt actually but no. You’re going to move this hose,” Lucas taps it with a finger, “from here to here.” He motions where it will attach.

“Why?” Eliott pouts, looking very put-out by the idea of this assigned task. In truth there is no real purpose to having Eliott move the hose. Lucas just wants to make him do it.

“Because it’s about time you took some ownership over these beauties,” Lucas states. “Car education begins now.”

“Lucas,” Eliott whines, “I don’t need to know how to move the hose-thingy. I have you.”

“Well sure. For now.” He looks at Eliott gravely. “But what happens come the zombie apocalypse when I’m too busy fighting off all the zombies who want to eat our brains and all that stands between us and escape is you moving that engine hose. You don’t move that hose, Princeling, the car doesn’t run. I’m eventually overpowered, and you have to watch as they devour my brains. Is that what you want?”

Eliott laughs, delighted. “Why is it you fighting off the zombies? I could fight off the zombies and you could fix the car.”

Lucas scoffs. “We both know it’s going to be me fighting off the zombies. You’d offer them a spot of tea or something and they’d be eating your brains before you even had a chance to boil the water.”

“That’s not true,” Eliott’s nose scrunches. “I’m not that stupid.”

“No. But you are that nice,” Lucas points out, eyebrow raised just daring Eliott to disagree. “Now enough stalling. Come here.” Lucas brings an arm around Eliott’s back, pulling him forward and pressing him a little in front. “Alright now take this,” he hands Eliott the wrench, “and loosen this here.” He taps the blot holding the clamp he’s referring to and presses himself against Eliott’s side as he watches.

“Like this?” Eliott asks moving the wrench on the bolt.

“Mmhmm,” Lucas confirms. “Just,” he reaches forward and wraps his own hand around Eliott’s, directing him to move the wrench until it properly links around the bolt, “there.” He pulls back and watches as Eliott loosens the joint. “Ok now it’s loose, finish it off by hand.” He takes the wrench back.

Eliott snickers. “That’s what all the boys say.”

“Princeling,” Lucas gasps, impressed. “Dirty! I didn’t even see the innuendo sitting right there, dick out, waiting to be noticed.”

Just as he goes to respond the hose comes loose and as Eliott pulls it back, coolant gushes from it and onto his hands. “Ugh!” He cries jerking the hose upright to stop the flood. “Gross! It’s all over me.”

“Mmm,” Lucas nods seriously. “Premature ejaculation. Terrible problem really but it happens.”

Eliott snorts. “I’d rather have you come all over my hands than this.” He wrinkles his nose looking down at the liquid dripping from his hands.

“That was… weirdly touching,” Lucas chuckles, nudging into Eliott’s side before reaching forward again and directing Eliott to move the hose over to the other joint. “I’d rather have you come all over my hands than a car engine too.” He hands the wrench back and watches as Eliott immediately latches it correctly and tightens the bolt.

“There,” Eliott declares, straightening himself and looking from the engine to Lucas. “I did it?”

“That you did, Princeling.” Lucas smiles. “Nicely done.”

“Yeah?” Eliott’s face lights up in a grin and he looks back to the engine. “Wow. I did it.”

“Not bad.” Lucas reaches for a rag, tossing it at Eliott. “Here. So you don’t drip everywhere. The soap at the sink is heavy duty. It’ll get rid of smell.”

“Thanks,” Eliott moves quickly to the sink at the side of the room, scrubbing his hands clean. He smiles as he turns to walk back to Lucas. “You know, you’re a good teacher.”

“Yeah?” Lucas knows his delight at the comment is a little too obvious but at the moment he doesn’t care. “You think?”

Eliott looks a little taken aback by Lucas’s enthusiasm, but he responds with sincerity. “Yeah. I mean,” he smiles, a little cheeky, “the sexual innuendo probably isn’t an approved teaching method, but it works for me.”

“Oh yes,” Lucas nods seriously, “that’s an Eliott-only teaching method. No one appreciates my sexually explicit wit quite like you. Well,” he reconsiders, “maybe Idriss too.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Eliott protests, lower lip immediately protruding. “Not like me.” There’s an unspoken question mark on the end of his sentence.

“Nah,” Lucas confirms with a grin. “Not like you.”

It has the intended effect and Eliott smiles, satisfied.

“But um,” Lucas looks away from Eliott, concentrating on putting the wrench back in the toolbox and fiddling with the other tools inside, “I sort of wanted to ask you something actually. Like… about teaching?” He glances up at Eliott.

Eliott nods, smiling in encouragement.

“So, uh, Alexia has this employment program at the shelter, right?”

Eliott nods. “You mentioned it when we were talking to Emily. I remember.”

“Right so, Alexia wants to get some of the kids involved in the trades and I guess a few are interested in cars and like, being mechanics?” He’s not sure why he words it like a question but Eliott smiles and nods.

“They probably all just want a chance to be as cool as you are.”

“Yeah, right,” Lucas chuckles nervously. “Anyways, it’s really hard for her to get them the experience they need. It’s not like the garages will take kids on like that, not without there being a financial benefit. And the kids obviously don’t have any money for a proper trades program.”

“You want me to sponsor the kids in a trades program at the college?” Eliott asks. And he does so with such ease and enthusiasm it takes Lucas a second to realize what he even means.

“What?” _Wait_. Eliott thinks Lucas is asking him to _pay_ for these kids to go to school? “Oh. No. No! That’s not what I meant,” he speaks quickly, entirely thrown by the suggestion and the fact that Eliott doesn’t seem the least bit put off by Lucas asking him to shell out thousands upon thousands of dollars for kids he doesn’t know. “I meant I want to run a program for the kids here. Like an apprenticeship program.”

“You want to teach them here?” Eliott’s eyebrows raise in surprise. He seems skeptical. He doesn’t think Lucas can do it. He’s right. This is stupid. What was Lucas thinking?

“Yeah, no.” Lucas shakes his head, eyes dropping to the floor between them as he pulls his hair back from his face. “It’s stupid. Never mind.”

“What?” Eliott’s feet come into his line of sight as he steps closer. “No, I didn’t say that. Lucas.” He reaches forward to tip Lucas’s face back up to meet his eyes. “It’s an amazing idea.”

“Yeah?” Lucas asks, voice far more insecure than he would like.

Eliott smiles gently. “Yes. I just feel bad I didn’t think of that when you were talking.”

“I mean,” Lucas hedges, “I don’t know that it can actually work. It might not be feasible at all and–”

“Of course we can make it work,” Eliott interrupts. “Think what an incredible experience this would be for the kids, and the opportunities it would open for them.”

“Right?!” Lucas enthuses. “It’s experience they couldn’t get _anywhere else_.”

“And think of the way we could build this sort of a program. It could be so much more than just job experience with you. We have a Palace full of talented professionals. Imagine the other potential apprenticeship opportunities.” Eliott’s face is lit up with the possibilities, as though he’s feeding off Lucas’s own enthusiasm. Or maybe it’s vice versa.

“You think?” Lucas can’t help the way excitement bubbles within him. A bigger program than just working with Lucas? What Eliott is talking about almost sounds like a school.

“I mean you know him better obviously, but don’t you think Yann would be into taking on a couple kids interested in the culinary field? Or even Arthur. No one has better management acumen.” Eliott’s eyes drift and his forehead wrinkles as he gets lost in listing the potential opportunity. “And Lucille would totally help us build the program. She wanted to be a teacher before – well, before her parents decided the only future she should plan for was marrying me. She would be ecstatic to help.”

“Fuck. That – that sounds amazing, Eliott.” Lucas didn’t expect this, Eliott’s enthusiasm or the unbelievable potential to build a program like this into something far more important. But it also feels like maybe they’re getting a little ahead of themselves. “It’s just – do you think, um, your mom would object? I mean… having a bunch of street kids suddenly inside her Palace might not be her idea of a good time.”

“I don’t care.”

“Eliott…”

“No, Lucas. I mean it. I don’t care. I’m tired of everything being out of my control. I feel so powerless all the time. I feel like I’m doing nothing… like nothing good.” He shakes his head, looking frustrated and sad all at once.

“That’s not true–” Lucas objects, feeling the sudden need to wipe that look off Eliott’s face.

“It _is_. I do nothing more than wait – sit on the side lines and watch as my mother makes all the decisions. You said it yourself, I have the chance to do _good_. I can change things. I want to.” Eliott looks impassioned and determined, looking directly at Lucas as he says it.

“I do too,” Lucas laughs a little, amazed at his own brazen honestly. “I know I’m not like – I’m not you. My ability to really affect change is limited but… I can’t have been given this amazing opportunity for nothing. And I can’t sit back and not at least try to change things, you know? To make them better for those kids.”

“Neither of us has the ability to do this on our own. But together, I think this could work and we could – we could do something really good. Think of how this could grow if the kids are benefiting? And I just – I want to do it. Us. I want us to do it and for it to be ours. Not my mother’s. I won’t let her get in the way.” He’s never looked more like a Prince. Years ago, that sort of observation would not have been something Lucas said as a compliment. Hell, a few months ago it wouldn’t have been a compliment. But now. Now it is.

“You sure you’ll be able to stop her? If she doesn’t approve that is.” Lucas has to say, he’s a little skeptical in that belief himself. But if he’s going to put his faith in anyone, it’s Eliott.

“I’m meant to be a leader in this place, right?” A smile pulls at Eliott’s mouth and he stands up a little straighter.

“Yeah. You are.” Lucas has never been surer. Eliott is a leader. Whether he sees it in himself or not, he already is.

“About time I step up then.” The smile on Eliott’s face grows, his eyes sparkling as he looks at Lucas. Sparkling? _Fuck_. Even inside the privacy of his own head Lucas is starting to sound so... _cheesy_. He’ll blame it on Eliott’s influence.

“I’ll say.” He returns the smile, tipping his head slightly to Eliott.

“You make me want to. Lead I mean. You make it seem less like… shackles. This title. Who I’m meant to be. For the first time it seems like a good thing – a chance to _do_ good things.” He shakes his head suddenly, looking chagrined. “Sorry. I sound like I’m making this all about me.”

“No. No, I get it. I mean, it’s pretty selfish for me too. I just want a bunch of kids running around the garage entertaining me and making me feel cool. Gets boring in here alone, you know.”

“What you do for those kids, and what you’re trying to make happen for them, it’s really great, Lucas.”

Lucas shrugs, a little embarrassed. “You’d do the same. And you are.”

“Because you brought it up. I wouldn’t have thought of it myself. You are always… taking care of others.” His eyes are gentle as they look at Lucas. “Around here it was never like that. My mother, she didn’t raise us to be selfish. Despite her behaviour at times, she does want us to be good people, to do good in the world. But for her that will always come secondary to our own interests, and never, _never_ at our own expense… or even mild discomfort.”

“I mean, I get that. You would never want your kids to suffer in an effort to help others.” The Queen is not someone who garners even an iota of natural empathy from Lucas but… she’s still a mother. As much as he dislikes her – as he’s always disliked her – even he can understand the conflicted emotions that must come from her duties as Queen and her role as a mother.

“But we’re not suffering. We sit in a lavish Palace with our every whim met while people starve. While Mary huddles around a fire at night to stay warm and kids like Emily sleep in shelters. I feel like my mother’s desire to protect Manon and I – or what she sees as protecting us – has led to turning a blind eye on the needs of all others, the very people we’re meant to represent. It’s made her colder. Harder. I don’t want to be that kind of leader. Neither does Manon.” He looks desperately to Lucas as he says it.

“You won’t be. You aren’t.” It’s the truth. It’s been the truth from the first moment they spoke. It’s been the truth even when Lucas was accusing him of the embodying the opposite. “This isn’t some rhetoric about the future, Eliott. Both you and Manon have already proven yourselves to be different. Manon spends how much of her time at the food bank? And who was it that used his influence to scare the shit out of some stuffy rich asshole looking to destroy Emily’s future? You’re not your mother.”

“I think it’s you,” Eliott states softly, his eyes carrying an intensity Lucas is coming to recognize. “You’re inspiring. You’re the best person I know. You inspire me to… be the best version of myself.”

“It’s not a version of you. You don’t exist in parts. It’s just who you are.” Lucas let’s the truth of it ring through his voice. “You are the best person. A good person, Eliott. That has nothing to do with me.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” The corner of his mouth pulls up in a slight smile. They stare at one another, neither breaking eye contact, the silence between them speaking more than any further words could ever hope to.

“Anyways,” Lucas clears his throat, dropping his eyes first. “I’ll let Alexia know. That we’re going to sort out an apprenticeship program here. She’s going to be ecstatic. Or um, if it’s ok for me to let her know?”

“Yes of course,” Eliott smiles relaxed, following Lucas’s lead and allowing the heavy quality of the moment to pass. “I’ll let Arthur and Lucille know as well and we can set up a meeting to discuss details.”

“That sounds great.” Lucas lets giddy happiness flood his veins. It’s really going to work. The apprenticeship program. He can’t believe it. “So, what’d you come to bug me for anyways, Princeling? Now that I’ve talked your ear off and roped you into a project that’s likely going to get you into shit with your mom. Or did you just come down here to watch me work?” He smirks, miming a wrenching action with his arm, but really just exaggeratedly flexing his bicep. In truth, it does seem to briefly distract Eliott whose eyes drop to Lucas’s arm flexing.

“Um.” He blinks heavily, looking back up to Lucas confused before he seems to remember the question. “Oh! I brought you this.” He turns and moves to pick up what looks to be a vinyl record he’d left lying on the hood of another car. “Here.”

Lucas takes it from him tentatively, turning it in his hands. “A vinyl?”

Eliott nods, smiling excitedly. “Turn it over.”

Lucas does as told, turning it to read the title. “Led Zeppelin?”

“So you can listen to Stairway to Heaven. It sounds so much better this way I promise.”

It’s an incredibly nice gesture it’s just… “But you’re the one with the record player.”

“Yeah. And you can use it to listen to that whenever you want.”

Lucas looks up from the record, offering Eliott a slanted smile. “You sure you’re ready to let your record player get a little dirty with Led Zeppelin? Quite a change from EDM.”

Eliott huffs. “I listen to more than EDM.”

“Sure you do, sassling.” Lucas grins looking back down at the record. “But um – thanks.” He looks back to Eliott’s eyes are on him. “This is really cool.”

“You’re welcome.”

“So I get to just help myself to your record player, hunh?” He raises his eyebrows as he looks at Eliott skeptically. “Any time I want?”

Eliott shrugs. “Sure. Why not?”

Lucas laughs lightly, eyes flicking to Eliott and away again. “Right. Come to listen to some Zeppelin in your _bedroom_ and walk in on you and the Prince or some shit. That wouldn’t be awkward at all.”

“What?” Eliott asks, shock and maybe just a little annoyance in his tone. “You’re not going to walk in on me and Niccolò.”

Lucas can’t help the way his eyes are drawn back to Eliott’s. “No?” He tries not to sound too curious. Or at the very least, maintain a friendly sort of curiosity as he asks. Judging by the understanding that flickers across Eliott’s face, he’s not even a little successful.

“No.”

Lucas nods, looking away and pursing his lips as he considers whether to ask… but, well, he’s sort of already committed to being painfully transparent at the moment. “No as in… not now or…” he meets Eliott’s eyes and holds contact, “not ever?”

Eliott doesn’t drop the eye contact, staring back at Lucas just an intently. “Lucas…” He swallows heavily.

“ _You better not still be fucking around under some car. Making me come drag you out by your hair I swear to god…”_ Yann’s voice calls from the garage door as he enters. He pauses at the sight of Eliott and Lucas looking back at him.

Lucas glances at the clock on the wall. Fuck. It’s well past quitting time. He hadn’t even realized. “Sorry,” he calls to Yann. He directs his next comment to Eliott, who is looking back at him now. “I promised Yann I’d hang with him after work. We haven’t had a good bonding session just the two of us in a while, you know?” He shifts a little uncomfortably under Eliott’s gaze, the heavy weight of the previous moment still sitting thick between them.

“I can come back if you guys are in the middle of something,” Yann says as he approaches. “Or you can just meet me at the car when you’re done?” He looks to Lucas a little uncertain, watching for any cues that will tell him how to respond. And Lucas knows Yann would make an excuse and bail should Lucas give him any indication he should.

“And delay our very important evening of best friend bonding? I don’t think so. I believe I was promised pizza and beer!” He smiles at Yann and feels Eliott’s eyes on the side of his face.

“Well, I know you.” Yann shakes his head with a smile. “I doubt you’d even hang out with me if I didn’t promise food.”

“Of course I’d hang out with you. You’re my best friend,” Lucas scoffs. “I’d just complain the whole time.”

Yann laughs, turning towards Eliott. “Are you joining?”

Eliott looks away from Lucas to respond to Yann. “Oh, um, no. Thank you. I wouldn’t want to intrude. I was going to hang out with Manon and Idriss this evening anyways.”

Lucas raises his eyebrows. “Crashing an evening between those two? You sure that’s safe?”

Eliott chuckles a little, a smile growing on his face and Lucas relaxes at the sight of it. “Maybe not normally but with the ball next week and – and Charles.” He hesitates before saying the name, as though he expects Lucas to start foaming at the mouth at the mere mention of the dickhead Prince… which is perhaps fair. “We all just want to make sure we’re prepared and on the same page.”

Lucas nods sympathetically. “How is she doing? Knowing he’s coming and it’s about her, I mean.”

“Actually,” Eliott begins with a sound of amusement, “she’s fine. Better than. It’s more Idriss and me freaking out.”

“Yeah, I actually one hundred percent believe that,” Lucas chuckles.

“Sorry, I gotta ask,” Yann suddenly breaks in. “Tell me off if I’m out of line but,” he looks quickly from Lucas to Eliott, “why do you have to put up with Charles’ shit at all? I mean he’s a Prince, you’re a Prince. Surely he doesn’t have any more influence or power than you. Why the need to kiss his ass the way you do?” The second the words are out he looks immediately apologetic and opens his mouth again as though to apologize before stubbornly snapping it shut. Lucas gets it. Yann isn’t the sort of person to ever be particularly comfortable calling out someone like Eliott – not just a Prince but his technical employer. And yet… Yann is Lucas’s best friend. And Lucas knows Yann is still pissed about the movie night and the way Eliott had behaved. Lucas and Yann had never really discussed it afterwards but they’ve both always been quietly protective of one another. Just how upset Lucas was that evening would have been more than clear to Yann. That he is now holding a grudge against Eliott is not a surprising turning off events.

Eliott however doesn’t look particularly put out. Instead he looks thoughtful as he answers. “Honestly? I’m not even sure there is a need any longer. Manon and I, when we’d talked about… my future choices,” he glances quickly at Lucas before looking back to Yann in earnest, “we thought we’d need Charles. He’s one of the most influential figureheads in Europe. His support mattered.”

“And it doesn’t any longer?” Yann asks skeptically. Lucas is thankful Yann’s the one asking the questions. He doesn’t feel quite capable himself, but he wants to hear the answers.

“I’m just not sure it’s worth the cost. Not for me,” he looks at Lucas, “and not for Manon.” They stare at one another and Lucas sees in his eyes what this is. An apology. It’s not the first. Eliott apologized for his behaviour around Charles before. But it feels different this time. It’s an apology by promised action, not words. It feels different too. Like there’s a gravity to his words Lucas doesn’t quite understand yet.

“I can’t imagine he’d be all that much help right now anyways,” Yann’s voice is a startling reminder that they’re not alone. “I mean with his reputation,” he continues, “his support could be more damaging than it is helpful.”

“Manon said the same actually,” Eliott agrees. “Even my mother is coming around on that. Just the same, he holds political power. And when he takes the crown, even more so. I don’t know,” he sighs heavily. “I really don’t know.”

“Sorry.” Yann steps forward and places a hand on Eliott’s shoulder, squeezing briefly. “I didn’t mean to make you get into it.”

“No. It’s alright,” Eliott smiles. “I’d rather you understand my reasoning, however poor it might be, than think I’m a total jerk.”

“A _jerk_ ,” Lucas gasps. “Such strong language to describe yourself, Princeling. We would never think that. Would we now, Yann?”

Yann rolls his eyes and doesn’t say a thing, clearly realizing Lucas doesn’t require his input for this.

One corner of Eliott’s mouth pulls up just a little. “Are you sure you want me to use stronger language?” And suddenly that smile of his looks a lot more cocky and smug than it does cheeky. “With the way it _bothers_ you and all.” Why the sassy little… It is just straight-up dangerous that he knows he can get to Lucas like this. 

But he’s not wrong about the way it affects Lucas, and Lucas would rather Yann not be here for that. “Maybe not,” Lucas admits. Eliott’s grin turns triumphant.

“Anyways.” Yann clears his throat looking confusedly back and forth between them. “We taking off or do you need a minute?” He’s giving Lucas a _look_. A look Lucas doesn’t appreciate at all.

“Nah. Let me wash up and we’ll go.” Lucas looks to Eliott briefly. “I’ll see you around, sasspup?”

Eliott nods but looks uncomfortable, his eyes darting from Lucas to Yann and back again. It gives Lucas pause and he halts his movements towards the sink to give Eliott his attention.

“Yeah, it’s just,” Eliott pulls a hand through his hair, dipping his head slightly and looking up at Lucas hesitantly, “I was actually coming to tell you. I’ll be away this weekend.”

“Oh. Ok?” Lucas’s brows pull together in confusion.

“Just for a couple of days. We leave Thursday and come back Saturday. It’s just a short trip to the mountains.” He bites his lip, clearly anxious.

“You ski?” Lucas smiles. It’s been a lot of years, but he used to love to ski. He can’t help but imagine what it would be like to do so with the clumsy, long-limbed Prince before him. It’s a charming imagining.

“Snowboard.”

Lucas wrinkles his nose. “Ugh. Another flaw in your character I have to deal with, hunh? Please tell me Manon skis.”

“Yeah, she skis. She’s – uh – she’s not coming though. She’ll be here with Idriss. Theo will come in Idriss’s place. And Manon needs to, you know… help my mother with the last-minute preparations for the ball. All of that sort of stuff,” Eliott rambles, fingers nervously twisting a ring on one hand.

“Then who are you…” Oh. _Oh_. Niccolò. It’s a weekend away with just Eliott and Niccolò. And Lucas had asked him ‘not ever?’ like an utter fool. He’d been relieved to think Eliott and Niccolò hadn’t slept together. When really he should have been tacking a ‘yet’ to the end of the thought. Fuck. “Oh. Right.” He nods, looking away from Eliott to catch his bearings. “That’ll be cool.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Eliott insists. God he probably knows exactly how bothered Lucas is. Why the fuck had Lucas thought being transparent with Eliott, even for a moment, had been a good idea? “It’s just that Nico and I talked about going to the mountains the last time he visited, because that was in the summer and–”

“No need to justify yourself, Princeling,” Lucas dismisses with an easy wave of the hand and smile. Project ease, Lucas. This is the whole fucking point of having Niccolò here. This is good. This is for the best. “You’ll have an amazing time. Yann,” Lucas distracts, nodding to where Yann stands to the side looking like he’s trying to melt into the background, “remember the last time we went skiing?”

Yann chuckles, still looking uneasy but thankfully taking Lucas’s cue to lighten the mood. “When you nearly got us killed on that out-of-bounds run because ‘oh I skied here a million times as a kid, Yann. I know where I’m going.’ Yeah trauma tends to imprint on memory.”

“Ok. One,” Lucas raises an index finger, “I did know where we were going. I was just looking for a little adventure. And two,” he raises his middle finger, “did we die?”

Yann and Eliott both laugh.

“Alright, well, I’ll see you when I get back?” Eliott asks, a question directed at Lucas.

“You know where to find me.” Lucas shrugs, motioning to the cars around him.

“Yeah.” Eliott smiles, a tight close-lipped smile. He and Yann nod a farewell and then, with a final lingering look at Lucas, Eliott disappears behind the closed door to the hall.

“It sucks I actually really like him,” Yann comments as they both stare after him.

“What?” Lucas laughs turning his head to look at Yann.

Yann lifts one shoulder in an awkward shrug. “Just have the feeling I’m going to have to kick his ass in the near future.”

“Ok so you understand my virtue waved the hell goodbye long before Eliott got his hands on me, yeah? And also, we’re not living in the early-nineteenth century and I’m not your precious daughter coming of age and in need of a good, respectable husband to control me.”

Yann barely blinks. “No early-nineteenth-century Baron could handle the likes of you. Never mind control. I’d pity the man who would try.”

“Damn straight.”

He turns his head to Lucas. “I don’t want to kick his ass. It’d be really awkward where my future employment here at the Palace is concerned.”

“You won’t be kicking anyone’s ass. Least of all Eliott’s.”

Yann doesn’t look convinced, but he nods. “Go wash up. Let’s get out of here already.”

“Don’t act like I was the one holding you up,” Lucas throws back, walking towards the sink.

“You were the only thing holding me up,” Yann bawks.

“Yes, well I’m worth the wait.”

“I swear to god… do you ever hear yourself?”

“I mostly tune myself out to be honest. Why? You want to tell me how clever I am?” He grins over his shoulder at Yann as he wipes off his hands and grabs his bag on the bench next to the sink, walking towards the door.

“Yes, that’s definitely where I was going with that,” Yann sighs with all the suffering of a true best friend.

“Thought so. Now come on. What’s taking you so long?” He holds the door open for Yann, staring back impatiently with a raised eyebrow.

“You are so fucking lucky I love you,” Yann huffs, jogging over to lead their way out the door.

“Don’t be stupid. I’m very, very aware of that.” He is.

* * * *

* * * *

* * * *

* * * *

_**I’m back. Where are you?**_

Lucas grins down at the message, texting a quick response. _Where do you think?_

“Judging by that stupid-ass smile on your face, Eliott’s back?”

Lucas looks up at Idriss, making sure to fill his face with just the right amount of disdain. “Neither my ass nor smile are stupid, I will have you know. Both have acquired me dick in equal measure.”

“If he’s coming here and I have to witness you two being … you two, I’m bailing,” Idriss says, ignoring Lucas’s comment entirely. He’s gotten quite good at that. Lucas needs to work harder at throwing him off balance.

“I’m sorry but who had to walk in here yesterday to the sight of you _helping_ Manon train weights?”

“I was helping her.”

 _Right_. “Please,” Lucas dismisses. “I don’t need to have watched straight porn to know that was the first five minutes of it.”

“God, you’re such a dickhead.”

Lucas delights in their particular brand of banter and would continue if not for the fact that Eliott chooses that exact moment to come barreling into the gym. He freezes mid-motion, eyes going between Lucas and Idriss who stare back.

“Miss us?” Lucas grins.

Eliott pulls his lips into his mouth, a look of sheer determination overcoming him. Moving towards Lucas with intent Eliott sweeps him up in a hug, crushing their chests together as he wraps one arm around Lucas’s back and the other finds its way around his shoulders and into Lucas’s hair, pulling his head down and into Eliott’s neck. Lucas doesn’t fight it, collapsing into Eliott body and burying his face into the soft skin of Eliott’s throat. Cleanly shaven and smelling slightly of mint, Lucas presses his lips there.

“Wow. Guess that answers that question. Missed you too, buddy,” Idriss calls from somewhere to their side. They both happily ignore him.

Eliott uses the hand woven through Lucas’s hair to tip his head back up. He doesn’t loosen his hold around Lucas’s back as they stare at one another. “Sorry, sorry,” he whispers before pressing his face to the side of Lucas’s, nose buried in Lucas’s hair as he inhales deeply. “Ok.” He releases Lucas abruptly, backing up. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, what?” Lucas asks, voice soft and confused, legs far more wobbly than they should be pre-workout.

“I have to go see my mother.” Eliott grins, backing towards the door. “It’s protocol when arriving home from a trip.”

“You haven’t gone to see your mom yet?” Idriss asks incredulous. “Fuck, Eliott. Get your ass out of here.”

“Nico’s stalling, it’s fine,” Eliott dismisses, not taking his eyes off Lucas. “I wanted to say hi first.”

“And you have,” Idriss continues. “Now go before we’re all in shit with her.”

“Ok,” Eliott nods but remains standing with his back to the door. “You’ll come hang out with me later?” The question is directed at Lucas alone.

“Sure,” Lucas nods, thoughts a little fuzzy. “I mean,” he shakes his head in an attempt to clear it, “after I go by the shelter. Alexia asked me to come by.”

“After then. You can bring your vinyl. We’ll play it.” Eliott smiles, wide and just a little goofy. Lucas nods. “Ok. Bye.”

“Bye.” Lucas smiles just as stupidly. Eliott backs through the door. It swings shut as he disappears from view.

“Wow. That was worse than I imagined. I think I would have preferred you two just going at it right here.”

“You know I’d call you out on those voyeuristic tendencies but I’m in too good a mood,” Lucas responds, turning towards Idriss. “Consider yourself lucky.”

Idriss raises an eyebrow. “Sure. Lucky that Eliott had to go see his mom so you couldn’t jump one another right here.”

“We weren’t going to jump one another,” Lucas says with a roll of the eyes, moving to retrieve the blocking pads.

“Oh really? So that haze left in the room isn’t the sexual tension leftover from you two?” Idriss waves the air in front of him dramatically. He really has it coming…

“Nah, Idri,” Lucas smirks. “That’s just you and me, baby. Can’t hide our sexual chemistry. That shit is thick.”

Idriss inhales and exhales one heavy breath. “I really set that one up for you.”

“You did. I appreciate it.” He works on tightening the straps of the pads around his arms. “That said, you’re a married man and I’m–” He’s not even sure what he was about to say but he pauses, stumped for a moment while Idriss grins at him. “I’m… just going to have to accept that. But we’ll always have this.” He gestures to the room around them. “We’ll always have boxing.”

“You are the most ridiculous human being I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you,” Lucas responds primly.

“For the record though,” Idriss smiles, “I’m glad that idiot best friend of mine brought us together. I’m glad you and I are friends.”

The sincerity stops Lucas in his snarky little tracks. He expels a breath as he looks at Idriss staring back at him. “God. Fuck you.”

Idriss laughs. “Threw you off with that one, didn’t I?”

“Fuck,” Lucas repeats shaking his head as he tries to temper his smile. “I’m glad we’re friends too.” Idriss’s smile widens. “Now can we please beat the shit out of one another?”

“Sure,” Idriss agrees. “But we’re hugging afterwards.”

Lucas narrows his eyes as he looks at Idriss.

“Deal.”

* * * *

He gets the call as he’s walking up to the shelter. Caller ID tells him it’s his mother’s housing. His heart seizes and he pauses before turning the corner to the shelter, quickly answering.

 _“Lucas, it’s Rose. I’m sorry to call.”_ She sounds far more concerned than she ever has before. Even when she’s called with bad news in the past, she’s always done so with a serenity, Lucas has relied on, latched onto in order to calm himself. It’s nowhere present in her voice now.

“What’s going on, Rose?”

_“Lucas, admin received information today that the income you claimed was not accurate.”_

“What?” He asks confused. “What are you – what does that even mean? I don’t understand.”

 _“This income, Lucas, it’s… substantial. It would mean you no longer qualify for financial assistance. The costs of her care would increase to the regular rate."_ The regular rate – aka. so far beyond Lucas’s economic abilities he doubts he could afford it in any universe.

“What the–” He inhales a deep measuring breath. “Rose you know my income is anything but substantial. This has to be some sort of mistake. The cost of my mother’s care already takes the majority of my pay cheque and that’s with financial assistance.”

 _“I know.”_ She sounds as though she does, sympathy clear in her voice. _“Lucas I don’t mean to assume or speak out of turn, but I don’t believe this is an error. I think I’m looking at your father’s income.”_

The world tilts beneath him and he reaches out a hand to steady himself against the brick wall next to him.

“My father.”

_“Yes. I know you haven’t told us much but with what you’ve shared… and I’ve been told this income was that of the Power of Attorney.”_

That piece of shit! But why now? Why the fuck would he suddenly care about his wife when he hasn’t for the last six years?! Why screw up her financial assistance? Lucas can’t fathom a possible reason.

“Ok.” He inhales a measuring breath. “Ok, thank you for letting me know, Rose. I will figure something out.”

 _“Alright. But Lucas,”_ she sounds entirely regretful as she speaks, _“these expenses will be retroactive at least for this year. I don’t think they can legally claim more than that but…”_

Lucas’s throat seizes and he barely speaks through the constriction. “Not only will I owe more money monthly, I already do.”

 _“Yes. I’m so sorry, Lucas."_ She sounds near tears. She loves his mother and she’s grown close to Lucas through the years too. He knows her upset is genuine.

“It’s not your fault, Rose. I’ll figure it out.”

They say their goodbyes and Lucas ends the call, turning to press both hands against the wall as he attempts to catch his breath. What is he supposed to do? There’s no solution. There’s no way his dad will sign over Power of Attorney and Lucas isn’t about to ask. And now that he’s claimed his income with the housing admin, there’s no way for Lucas to refute the claim. Then there’s the financials… Lucas squeezes his eyes shut as his vision grows hazy. Is this his father’s way of forcing Lucas to contact him? To beg for money? Lucas knows exactly what that would mean. To people like his father money means power, it means control. Lucas would rather die than allow his father any control over his own life… over his mother’s. But what possible recourse is there? He’s beyond fucked.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, hand shaking. It’s Alexia and it takes his eyes a moment to adjust and interpret the words on the screen.

_**You almost here? Emily’s gone.** _

What? _What?!_ His brain is still processing the information while his feet have already begun moving. He jogs up and around the corner, running to the front door and through.

“Alexia!” He yells as he enters the main room. A few kids mill about the tables, Adam among them. He motions to the back.

“Back office.”

Lucas nods and hurries to the back.

“What the hell is going on?” He says as he enters.

Alexia’s on the phone and she glances at him as he enters, raising one finger to quiet him. “Ok, thanks. Just keep an eye out, alright? Yeah. Thanks again.” She ends the call and sighs deeply.

“Lexy, what is happening? What do you mean Emily is gone? Things have been great. Did her Dad come back?”

Alexia shakes her head. “No. Though, I don’t know. Maybe he’s involved?” She hands Lucas a number of papers lying on her desk.

Lucas skims them but his eyes won’t focus on the words, his brain moving too quickly to concentrate. “What am I looking at?”

“You’re looking at papers revoking our non-profit status, essentially shutting us down.” Her voice is devoid of any emotion, as though she’s numb to the impact of the words she speaks.

“I don’t–” Lucas can’t process any of it. It’s like his entire world is crashing down around him and he’s tied to a chain being forced to watch. “Alexia, I don’t understand. Why is this happening?”

“I’m not sure.” She collapses into the desk chair. “It said someone about our financial backers – which is fucking hilarious by the way. I wish we had actual financial backers beyond the people donating five euros a month or a few soup cans. But apparently someone has called into question our financials.” A chill rips down Lucas’s spine. This is… too coincidental. “It’s not true so legally we should be able to fight it. I know a guy in legal aid that will work with me but fuck,” she presses a hand over her eyes, “I can’t legally operate without status. I can’t have the kids here while I fight this.”

“Emily…” Lucas whispers, a question.

“Yeah,” Alexia confirms. “She overheard me talking to legal aid. She freaked out – said it was her dad. That it was his way of getting her back. Do you think it is?”

Lucas leans back against the wall, closing his eyes and tipping back his head to knock it harshly against the wall. “I don’t think so. I think…” He opens his eyes, rolling his head until he looks at Alexia. “I think this is the Queen.”

Her mouth drops open. “What? Why would – why the fuck would the Queen give a shit about us?”

“I fucked up,” he admits. “Fuck. I thought – I mean, I knew it was a threat – her knowing about my mom but I didn’t think… and then with the apprenticeship program. Eliott wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Fuck. And she sees me as the main problem. I really screwed this up.”

“Lucas,” Alexia stands and comes towards him, “you are not making sense.”

“I’ll explain later, ok?” He presses fists into his eyes for a moment. He needs to think. He needs to find Emily. He needs to keep her safe. That comes first. Then he needs to fix this. Fix things for Alexia. Fix things for his mom. It overwhelms him, the extent of it all, but it can’t. He can’t let it. They are all depending on him to fix it. He needs to. He can’t fail in this. Too much depends on him not failing. “Do you have people out looking for Ems?”

Alexia nods. “I made a few calls. They’ll let me know if they see her. And Nathan went out. I’m worried though, Lucas. She was so upset. She left all her stuff here but… I’m afraid she’s going to think she needs to leave Paris, and that means getting quick money.”

“I know. I’ll find her. I’ll call you.” He turns to leave but Alexia grabs his forearm before he’s able to do so. She pulls him back and cups his face between her hands.

“Lulu, this isn’t all on you, ok? I called you because I know you care, and I could use the help. Look for her sure but she’s not your kid. Whatever happens here it’s not on you, yeah?”

But it is. It is on Lucas. Because he promised her. He promised Emily he’d protect her. And now because of him she’s losing the first safe space she’s ever known. Not just her but countless kids. He has to make it right.

He nods just the same.

“I’ll find her.”

* * * *

He tries everywhere he can think. He checks with Mary. He checks with Leon. He tries every local haunt, asks after her with every regular. Nothing. No one has seen her. And it’s cold and it’s getting dark and he can feel hysteria rising inside him. She has to be somewhere. There’s no way she found a way to leave town. Not when she left everything she owns at the shelter. While her belongings are meager, Lucas knows better than anyone, when you hold so little, the value of each and every item is precious. Even desperate to escape, she wouldn’t leave it all behind. It’s all she has.

Lucas leans heavily against the outside of the most recent bar he’s checked. As the adrenaline running through his veins lessens, he becomes aware of just how cold he is. He can’t stop shaking and while initially he’d blamed it on his general anxiety, he now realizes it’s gotten really fucking cold and he’s only wearing a light jacket over a t-shirt. He hadn’t planned on walking outside in the cold evening for hours. He can’t stop though. He’ll just warm up in the next place he checks.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and his heart leaps as he grabs for it. But it’s not Alexia. It’s Eliott. Eliott calling him. Lucas’s shoulders droop at the sight and he’s instantly overwhelmed by emotion. It rises up in his throat and he swallows it desperately, choking it back down as he answers.

“Eliott, sorry I can’t talk right now.” His voice is broken and fragile, but he gets the words out.

_“I have Emily.”_

What? Did he just… “What? Emily? My Emily?! You have Emily?”

_“Yes. She called me to come get her. She’s safe. She’s upset but she’s ok. I’m taking her back to Alexia now. I thought about taking her back home, but I think it’s probably best she’s with Alexia, right?”_

Lucas’s knees buckle and he finds himself sagging sideways, until the wall of the adjacent building catches him. He slides down it until he sits curled over his legs on the pavement, phone pressed tightly to his ear.

 _“Lucas?”_ Eliott’s voice sounds concerned. _“Are you there? Did you hear me?”_

“Yeah. I heard you.” Lucas clears his throat. “I’ll meet you at the shelter.”

_“Ok. See you there.”_

* * * *

Eliott and Emily beat Lucas back to the shelter. By the time he arrives they are already with Emily in her room. He follows the sound of their voices, entering her room to the sight of Eliott standing across from Emily and Alexia who sit together on the bed in the small private room. They all turn to look at him as he enters, and the previously quiet scene erupts.

“This is your fault! It’s all because of you,” Emily cries out, standing with fists bunched at her sides. “You said you’d protect me from him!”

“Emily…” Alexia tries, standing and holding Emily back by a gentle hand on her arm.

“He promised!” Emily’s voice breaks and her eyes well with tears. Lucas would rather be punched directly in the stomach than be faced with the sight of her pain. In fact, it feels rather like being punched in the stomach.

“I know, Ems,” his own voice is just as broken. He wishes he could evoke his usual strength to help instill her with confidence but it’s just… gone. He feels empty. “I’m so sorry. But I’ll fix all of this. He won’t ever get you back.” Emily won’t look at him, tipping her face into Alexia’s shoulder as she sniffles. Alexia’s arm comes to wrap around her, and she pulls Emily to sit back on the bed once more. “I don’t think this has anything to do with him anyways,” Lucas tries tentatively.

“It doesn’t,” Eliott suddenly voices. Lucas’s eyes go immediately to him in surprise but Eliott is looking carefully at Emily. “You remember what I said, right?” Emily nods, peering up at him through teary eyes. “I can fix this, and I will.” His eyes come to meet Lucas’s for a brief moment. “Lucas and I will. You don’t need to worry, ok?”

Emily’s eyes blink open, tears dripping down her face as she looks at Eliott hopefully. “Do you promise?”

“Yes,” Eliott replies without hesitation. He looks at Lucas. “I promise.”

Lucas hopes Eliott’s promise means more than his own.

* * * *

By the time they leave the shelter the night has grown even colder. Eliott and Alexia had talked for a while after tucking Emily into bed. Lucas hadn’t even pretended to be paying attention. He’d stared blankly at a stain on the wall until Eliott had come up beside him, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder and suggesting they leave. Lucas had nodded and followed silently.

Eliott looks up from his phone. “Idriss will be here in a second. He was just circling the block.”

Lucas nods, staring out into the empty street. Eliott is suddenly stepping in front of him, interrupting his line of sight.

“Lucas, you’re shaking.” His hands come up to rub Lucas’s upper arms. “You’re freezing! Why are you so cold? How long were you outside?!”

Lucas stares up at him blankly. The thought of responding just feels like far more than he is capable of at the moment. He stands still as Eliott fusses over him. He rubs uselessly at Lucas’s arms before deciding that is ineffective. He takes off his own coat, tucking it around Lucas’s shoulders and wrapping it closed around him. It leaves him in nothing but a light shirt.

“You’ll be cold,” Lucas rasps.

“It doesn’t matter,” Eliott insists. He pulls Lucas towards his chest, pressing him there with warm arms wrapped around his back. Lucas gives into it – the warmth of Eliott. He turns his face to press his cold nose against the skin of Eliott’s collarbone, exposed as his shirt is pulled slightly to one side.

Idriss greets them with a smile as they get in the backseat of the car, but Lucas is unable to offer one back. Eliott immediately frets over ensuring Idriss has turned the heat up, making sure to turn the vents to point at Lucas. The hot air blows onto his skin but he prefers the heat of Eliott instead and turns into him, burrowing his face into Eliott’s neck as he curls into his side. Eliott’s arm wraps tentatively around him, too gentle, until finally with a little coaxing from the violent way Lucas continues to shiver in his arms, Eliott’s arm tightens and he’s holding Lucas just right, both arms wrapped solidly around him, body heat spreading to Lucas until he’s no longer shaking.

When they exit the car, Eliott and Idriss speak before Idriss departs, leaving Eliott standing alone in front of Lucas. He looks uncertain and Lucas would like to reassure him, put on a brave face and ease his worries but it seems the day has stripped him of every available mask, no wall left to hide behind.

“Lucas, I’m going to take you up to my room, ok? I don’t want you to be alone.” Eliott dips his head until he catches Lucas’s eyes. “Is that alright with you?” He seems to need an answer.

“Yeah,” Lucas croaks. “Ok.”

Eliott nods satisfied. He leads the way, looking over his shoulder to ensure Lucas is behind him. Lucas follows dutifully. When they reach his room, Eliott scurries about, moving around Lucas as he grabs him clothing to wear, a towel to use. He’s speaking but the sounds are muted in Lucas’s ears as he stares blankly at the floor.

“Hey.” Eliott stands before him once more. He cups Lucas’s face between his hands, tipping his head up to meet his eyes. His voice light and relaxed. “Don’t worry, ok? Emily is going to be just fine. She was just upset. We’ll fix things. This is just my mom pulling something stupid because she’s angry with me about the apprenticeship program. I can handle her, alright?”

Something breaks in Lucas. He can hear it, like shattering glass. He chokes on his words as he speaks. “You don’t understand. It’s all my fault. Emily. My mom. I can’t fix it. But I have to. Eliott, I have to.”

“Your mom?” Eliott’s thumbs glide across Lucas’s cheekbones in a gesture of comfort. “What are you talking about?”

Lucas can feel the tears welling uncontrollably in his eyes, the emotion swelling in his throat. He can’t stop it. For once he’s not sure he wants to try. “Your mom. I think she told him. My dad.” His voice cracks terribly and he blinks to clear his eyes of the moisture building. The tears drip down, caught by Eliott’s thumbs. “They got to them. The home. Haddon House. And now she won’t be able to stay. It’s too much money. What am I going to do, Eliott?” He grabs at Eliott’s shirt, clasping it desperately in fists, needing Eliott’s solid presence to steady him, to ground him. “I have to protect her and Em. They both need me to protect them. They don’t have anyone but me. They trust me and I let them down. And I-” He hiccups each breath. The tears overwhelm and he can no longer see Eliott clearly through them. “I don’t know how but I need to fix it. I need to–”

“Hey, hey.” Eliott pulls Lucas roughly into his chest, pressing them tightly together. “Breathe. I’ve got you. I’m going to help. I’ll help. You have me. Ssshhh. Breathe. I’ve got you.”

Lucas shuts his eyes, pressing his face into Eliott’s neck and letting the vibrations of Eliott’s voice sink into him, calming the frantic pace of his heart. And they stand like that, Lucas wrapped in his arms, Eliott mumbling comforting words as Lucas’s pulse slows.

“You know what I wondered?” Eliott’s voice rumbles after a time. Lucas shakes his head. “Did Inigo encourage Fezzik to rhyme because he truly thought Fezzik was talented or was it because he felt bad Fezzik was being made to feel stupid?”

“What?” Lucas exhales against Eliott’s neck, not quite a laugh.

Eliott’s hand rubs up and down Lucas’s back as he speaks, and Lucas closes his eyes as a drowsy sort of peace overcomes him.

“I mean, he gets Fezzik to rhyme right? When that other guy – um, the rude one …”

“Vizzini,” Lucas whispers.

“Yeah, right, when Vizzini is insulting him. So, it must be to calm Fezzik, right? To make him feel good about himself again?”

Lucas shrugs a little, pressing his face harder into the comforting heat of Eliott’s neck, the feel of his words vibrating through the skin. “I don’t know.”

“I think it was. He probably knew Fezzik liked to rhyme and it made him feel good that Inigo thought he was so good at it. It was probably entertaining for Inigo too, right? Because Fezzik is funny…”

Eliott continues to talk. The words run together. A comforting rumble beneath Lucas’s ear. He let’s them surround him, comfort him. Wrapped in the warmth of Eliott’s arms, he lets his body relax, lets his muscles loosen, let’s Eliott hold his weight. It’s safety. It’s the promise that he’s not alone. Eliott is here too. He doesn’t have to do it alone. Maybe Eliott can help. Maybe Lucas can let him.

There’s a song playing as Eliott tucks Lucas into bed. Eliott has turned on music. Lucas has never been one for music as he falls asleep but it’s soft, gentle and comforting. He relaxes into the melody, letting it guide him to sleep.

 _I told you something safe_ _  
Something I've never said before  
And I, I, I can't keep my hands off you  
While you lie in the wake  
Covered all in the night before  
I'm high, high, high, no one's got me quite like you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr: surrealsunday
> 
> So I probably should have mentioned in an earlier chapter but I forgot... and well, I want to be clear that I don't speak car. I know it probably seems like I must as I made Lucas a mechanic... but yeah, no. So while I did look up diagrams of the relevant car engines in scenes where specifics are discussed... please do not look for sensical accuracy there. I couldn't even tell you if it is. 
> 
> What I do speak is art. So mentioning Janet Cardiff and George Bures Miller is very self-indulgent. They are a husband-wife team of Canadian conceptual artists. They are incredible. And yes they have exhibited in Paris. He also mentions them showing at the Venice Biennale. That too is true. Find out more about them here: www.cardiffmiller.com/
> 
> Little (big) shout-out to Julie for editing the pic of Lucas and Chloe at Yann's. And for always finding pictures for me when I'm lazy (and then possibly torturing me by spamming gorgeous pics of Maxence). Love you. Thank you.
> 
> As usual... next chapter by next weekend!


	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone freaked out by snakes... pics of Brian are in this chapter (he's adorable ok!).
> 
> Chapter heading graphic courtesy of Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr)! <3
> 
> There's also an IG pic in this chapter of Lucas looking snazzed up outside the Palace... that is by Julie (@ariavds on tumblr) and I thank her because when I tried to do it he was floating in space (it was known as the floating Lucas pic).
> 
> Ok... here goes... enjoy!

When Lucas wakes it’s to his arms wrapped around Eliott from behind, his face pressed to the back of Eliott’s neck. They’re full on fucking spooning and Lucas really should have seen this coming.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, shifting back slightly.

“Knew it was you I had to worry about,” comes Eliott’s raspy voice. “Just minding my own business here on my side of the bed…”

Lucas snorts, sinking into Eliott once more and curling his arms back around Eliott’s chest. He’s here anyways, right? Damage is already done. And Eliott is awake and aware, clearly not fussed about the compromising position they’ve found themselves in. Why should Lucas be? “You probably begged in the middle of the night to be little spoon.”

“I did no such thing,” Eliott mumbles, hand coming up to cover Lucas’s on his chest. “I was just innocently sleeping when you got all up in my business.”

“All up in your business,” Lucas snickers. “As if you aren’t all about this little spoon life.”

“I might be. But I didn’t choose this life. Little spoon life chose me.” Eliott’s voice has grown soft and he seems to be sinking back into sleep. 

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” Lucas lets sleep seep back into his bones, pressing his mouth against the back of Eliott’s neck as his breath slows.

“I think you’re mixing metaphors again.”

“Ssshhh.”

“Hey Lucas?” Eliott whispers.

“Mmm?” Lucas hums the answer against Eliott’s skin and feels a shiver ripple through the other boy’s body.

“Will you let me help? With Emily and your mom?” He inhales deeply and Lucas feels his chest expand beneath his hand. “I know you like to do things alone but just this once, let me help? I think I can fix things if you let me try. And I want to.”

Lucas blinks open his eyes just a slit, staring sleepily at the back of Eliott’s neck, taught with his nerves. He exhales, moving his lips to brush against the soft skin he finds there, rubbing them back and forth until he feels the tension release. “Ok.” He presses a kiss to the skin.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Lucas confirms sleepily, shutting his eyes once more. “Now let me sleep. You’re like a personal space heater and I’m digging it.”

Eliott laughs lightly. “Better than hogging all the blankets?”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees. “This is better.”

* * * *

* * * *

* * * *

“Are you still mad?”

Lucas knew it was Eliott approaching from behind just by the hesitancy of his steps. If it had been Idriss entering the gym it would have been done with a flourish, a slam of the door and a snarky comment directed Lucas’s way. Lucas leans back on his hands from his cross-legged position on the gym mat, turning his head to watch Eliott approach.

“Yes… wait… what’s that?” He points curiously at the large block of wrapped… something… in Eliott’s hand.

“It’s the chocolate I brought you back from Mont Blanc.” He reaches out with it. It’s an enormous block of Swiss chocolate.

“You smart bastard,” Lucas exhales, reaching for it excitedly. He rips into it immediately, breaking off a large chunk and shoving it into his mouth. “Oh god.” He closes his eyes in ecstasy.

Eliott chuckles, sitting down cross-legged across from Lucas. “Can I have some?”

“No,” Lucas mumbles around a mouthful, pulling the chocolate protectively to his chest. “Get your own.”

“Well that’s rude. I got you that.”

“Yes, and it’s mine now.”

“Does it make you less mad?” Eliott looks tentatively hopeful.

Lucas narrows his eyes as he looks at Eliott, chocolate melting deliciously in his mouth. “Why’d you do it?”

Eliott shrugs. He doesn’t ask for clarification despite Lucas giving the question no context. “Because I wanted to. Because I could. Because it’s you.”

“I don’t like it when I can’t do things myself,” Lucas admits looking down at the chocolate and breaking it into more pieces. He hands a small one to Eliott.

Eliott smiles, taking the piece of chocolate and popping it into his mouth. “I know.”

“I don’t like relying on people – needing them.” He shoves another piece of chocolate in his mouth, keeping his eyes low.

“Why?” Eliott asks softly.

Lucas shrugs. “You start to need someone, start to trust they’re always going to be there… what happens when they’re not?” 

“And if they are? If they don’t go anywhere?”

Lucas looks up. Eliott’s eyes are already on him, his gaze warm. “Life doesn’t work out that way.”

A wrinkle appears between Eliott’s eyebrows. “But you have lots of people who are there for you. Alexia, Yann… you’ve known them forever, right?” Lucas nods. “And they love you. They aren’t going anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees. “But…” It’s so hard to make someone like Eliott understand – someone who’s never needed to think twice about relying on the people around him. “I’m independent from them. Don’t get me wrong, I love them. I know I’m lucky to have them in my life but…” He looks into the eyes staring back, all of Eliott’s attention focused solely on him, “if I had to, if I had to pack up tomorrow and leave, if they suddenly wanted nothing to do with me, if they were just gone from my life. It would hurt but… I could live without them.”

Lucas watches as Eliott’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “So, why’d you say yes? When I asked you if I could help? Why’d you say yes then?”

That’s the question isn’t it. There’s no easy answer. No way for Lucas to explain without losing a part of himself. And maybe it’s a part of himself he never had to begin with. Maybe it’s always been with Eliott. He’s not ready to find out but Eliott deserves the truth. “Because it’s you.”

Eliott’s mouth parts as he stares at Lucas in surprise. Lucas doesn’t look away, letting him take in his fill. He can’t be sure what Eliott reads on his face, but it has the corner of his mouth pulling up just slightly. He reaches forward, grabbing Lucas’s free hand and rising to a stand, pulling Lucas along.

“Come on.”

“What?” Lucas asks confused, looking mournfully back at the chocolate left behind on the mat, following nonetheless as Eliott pulls him by the hand towards the door of the gym. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He grins over his shoulder, all boyish excitement. He leads Lucas down the hall and around the corner, only stopping as they reach the door just past the entrance to the bathroom with the showers.

“The pool?” Lucas asks perplexed. “You want to go swimming?”

Eliott quirks a brow, smiling excitedly. “Why not?”

“I thought staff weren’t supposed to use the pool.” Lucas resists only slightly as Eliott pulls him through the door and into the space housing the pool. The space is dimly lit in the early evening hours, illuminated only by sparse lighting on the surrounding walls. Eliott flicks a switch and the pool itself illuminates creating a cool glow through the space. It’s gorgeous and atmospheric. It looks like something out of a fantasy… in fact it probably is straight out of one of Lucas’s fantasies. Only better. His brain had never been kind enough to supply Eliott in those musings.

“You’re not staff,” Eliott scoffs kicking off his shoes and socks.

Lucas follows suit, leaving his shoes and socks near the door and following Eliott into the space. “Well then you’re going to be shocked to hear I’m getting a pay cheque.”

“Not to hang out with me you’re not.”

“You sure about that?” Eliott looks back at him unimpressed. It makes Lucas grin. “Nah. If anything your mom would pay me to stay away from you.” 

“Can we not talk about my mom right now?” Eliott complains.

“Why? What exactly do you have planned, Princeling?” Lucas lets a smirk grow on his face, the implicit suggestion clear.

“This.” Eliott turns towards Lucas fully, pulling his own shirt up and over his head. He follows that by stripping himself of his pants… and then his briefs. Standing nude before Lucas he tilts his head to the side with a smile.

“I uh–” Lucas clears his throat. “I’m game. It’s just…” He glances around them. There are no windows or additional doors available to the exterior of the building, just one large central skylight above the pool, but… “we’re not going to have someone bursting in on us, are we? Idriss? Your mom – again? Somehow I don’t think I’d survive it a second time.”

Eliott shakes his head grinning. He walks towards Lucas, and he’s beautiful and naked and his cock is already filling under the heat of Lucas’s gaze and it’s all just a little distracting. Any concerns Lucas has about being found butt-naked by the Queen mother suddenly don’t seem so relevant.

“No one will bother us. I asked Manon to make sure. She’ll have talked to Idriss. Security won’t be checking here and no one else will either.” He stops, standing an arms length from Lucas at the edge of the pool.

“This was planned?” Lucas asks a little shocked – ok, a lot shocked. The answer is written in the way Eliott’s cheeks darken. “Wow, Princeling. Just… wow. You’ve got moves, hunh?”

“I told you I had moves!” Eliott grumps, crossing his arms, standing there naked, looking gorgeous and just… utterly ridiculous.

“Mmhmm.” Lucas nods and reaches down to rid himself of his shirt. He pulls his training shorts and briefs down in one go, kicking them to the side. It’s the first time they’ve been completely naked with one another, Lucas realizes as Eliott’s eyes glide across him. “Well?” Lucas raises an eyebrow in challenge. “You’re got me naked. What do you plan on doing with me?”

Eliott’s gaze drags across Lucas’s body like a touch, moving across his collarbones, down his chest, to his abs, down to where his cock thickens in anticipation and back up until their eyes meet. “This.” Lucas truly should have predicted it. He’ll blame the fact that he doesn’t on being thoroughly distracted by Eliott standing in front of him naked and turned on. Greater men would have failed under such trying conditions. When Eliott launches forward and wraps his arms around Lucas, pulling them both sideways and into the pool, Lucas can’t do anything but let himself go… with a particularly colourful curse thrown in for good measure. They hit the water with a resounding splash, and Eliott releases him as they go under. They both emerge with a sputter and laugh.

“God, your seduction techniques need some work,” Lucas coughs with laughter as he treads water, pushing his hair back from his eyes.

“Please, I know you.” Eliott smile is so large it’s pushed his eyes into slits. “That totally worked.”

“Maybe,” Lucas agrees before leaping forward and using his body weight to sink Eliott under. He pushes off as Eliott’s hands scrabble for purchase under water, kicking back and away from him as Eliott surfaces, spitting water and coughing with laughter.

They play for a while. Dunking one another back and forth and entertaining a splash fight. No real rush to any of their actions. And it’s nice. It’s easy. It’s not until Eliott manages to wrap his arms around Lucas’s waist, pulling their bodies together that Lucas wraps his legs around Eliott’s waist in turn, his interest changing. They’ve migrated to the shallow end of the pool and Eliott stands easily, holding Lucas steady to him.

Eliott moves his face forward, touching their noses in a gentle rub. Lucas’s eyes flutter shut involuntarily at the contact. He feels Eliott’s warm breath against his lips and then his cheek, lips pressing to the hot skin he finds there before he connects his cheek to Lucas’s, resting their faces together. Lucas moves his hands up into Eliott’s hair, threading them through the strands and pressing himself closer. They smell like nothing but chlorine. Just the same Lucas can’t help but press his nose into the hair at Eliott’s temple, breathing him in.

“Lucas,” Eliott whispers, pulling his face back, he moves until their foreheads are pressed together.

Lucas closes his eyes, nuzzling his nose into Eliott’s with a soft hum.

“Lucas,” Eliott tries again, bumping their noses together. “You know how I planned this?”

Lucas exhales a slight laugh, tipping his head back up to look at Eliott. “Uh hunh.”

“Uh well…” Eliott wiggles an eyebrow, a cheeky sort of confidence about him. “Do you want to?”

“Do I want to what, sasspup?” Lucas tilts his head with a grin. “Because as much as I’d love to get my mouth on your dick, if I try to go down on you in here, I will actually drown. My talents only extend so far…”

Eliott erupts in laughter, shaking with it as he hugs Lucas closer. “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

“No?”

Eliott shakes his head with a smile, sliding his hands down Lucas’s back until he’s patting him on the ass. “C’mon, let’s get out.” Despite his words he doesn’t release Lucas, pulling them both towards the pool ladder until they’re forced to separate to climb out which Eliott does first. Lucas enjoys the delicious view of Eliott’s ass this affords before following. Eliott has moved to a pool recliner, reaching for something and putting it on the table next to the lounger. Lucas approaches curiously. Eliott turns, pulling and then pushing Lucas until he’s is forced to collapse back into the cushions of the lounger with a thump. Naked as he is, he can’t hide the way his body has responded to Eliott manhandling him, and Eliott has noticed. He grins as he straddles Lucas. His hands coming to press against Lucas’s chest, and he shifts forward until their lower halves press together. Lucas inhales harshly at the contact, hands coming up to grasp at Eliott’s hips. Eliott’s hands run down Lucas’s chest until he’s taking him in hand, pumping firmly. Lucas arches his back, throwing his head back with a satisfied groan.

“ _Ungh_. Fuck. That feels good.”

“Mmm,” Eliott hums, rubbing his thumb at the tip and sending frissons of sensation shuddering through Lucas’s body. “You’re so _fucking_ hot.”

“God,” Lucas gasps. How does Eliott affect him so quickly? He should have more stamina than this, but he already feels so far gone. Lucas can hear Eliott’s other hand fumbling with something, but he doesn’t open his eyes until Eliott’s hand returns to him, sliding a condom on and slicking him up generously with lube. Oh Jesus. “Eliott… what… are you sure?”

Eliott nods with a small smile, lifting up to kneel over Lucas.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait,” Lucas gasps and Eliott’s motions freeze. “I haven’t–” His whole body shudders with the effort of talking while his erection is held firmly in Eliott’s grasp. “I need to prep you.”

Eliott chuckles, a deep raspy sound, leaning forward and pressing his mouth against Lucas’s ear. “I planned this, remember? I’m prepped.”

Oh fuck. _Oh fuccckkkk._ Just the thought of Eliott with his fingers buried inside himself, working himself open as he imagined this moment with Lucas, imagined Lucas inside him… it has Lucas reaching for the base of his own cock, squeezing desperately in an effort to rein himself back, to regain some sort of control. “Eliott. Fuck.”

Eliott hums against his ear, clearly pleased with himself, moving back once more to position himself above Lucas. But Lucas is having none of it. “No. Wait.” He turns his head, finding the lube Eliott left on the table to the side of the chair.

“Lucas,” Eliott whines, impatient, “I’m good.”

“Mmm, I bet,” Lucas chuckles, spreading lube onto his fingers. “Lemme see for myself, yeah?” Lucas reaches around him. The angle is awkward but at the first touch of Lucas’s fingers, Eliott collapses forward, falling down into Lucas’s chest, allowing Lucas better access to press two fingers up into him. Eliott releases a low groan, rubbing the sides of their faces together and pressing lips to Lucas’s cheekbone, kissing him there over and over again as Lucas’s fingers explore him. Eliott hadn’t lied. He’s well prepped, though perhaps tighter than Lucas would have left him but then… maybe he likes it that way. Maybe he likes to _feel_ the stretch of a cock inside him the way Lucas does. Just the same Lucas spreads the lube liberally before removing his fingers.

Eliott’s teeth scrape against his cheekbone at the loss. “Now?” He asks, voice cracking in his obvious desperation.

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees, his own voice a fragmented plea. “Ok.”

Eliott sits up slightly, reaching back to position Lucas’s erection before he begins sinking down with a shaky exhale. He does it slowly, letting his body weight press Lucas’s cock up and into him. Lucas sucks in a breath as he breaches Eliott’s body, holding the air in his lungs until it burns. He doesn’t breathe until Eliott sits flush with his hips, seated with all of Lucas inside him. Lucas releases a breath in a gust of hot air, opening his eyes to stare at Eliott above him, hands sliding up Eliott’s thighs until they rest on his hips, where he squeezes the soft skin. Eliott’s face is flushed, his mouth parted. He leans forward, pressing lips to Lucas’s forehead before he rests their heads together, his eyes shutting. Lucas refuses to do the same, keeping his eyes open to capture every twitch on Eliott’s face, obscured by their proximity but so fucking hot it’s all Lucas can do not to come immediately.

“Lucas,” Eliott rasps, eyes flickering open as he begins moving, a deep grind of their bodies. “Lucas, what did you think when you first saw me?”

“What?” Lucas gasps confused, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything beyond the slick slide of his cock in and out of the tight heat of Eliott’s body. Has Lucas ever experienced something that feels as good as this? As exquisite as being inside Eliott? He doesn’t think so.

Eliott pulls his head back slightly, smiling a little and looking far too in control as he begins to move in earnest. He presses a sweet kiss to the tip of Lucas’s nose, in utter contrast to the way his hips roll, pumping Lucas in and out of him in a steady rhythm. “The first time you saw me, when you rescued me from the–” His words stutter as a downward roll of his hips pushes a guttural, satisfied noise from his throat. He swallows before continuing, “The rude man. What did you think?”

Lucas bites his lower lip and he holds tight to Eliott’s hips, planting his feet against the cushion of the chair and meeting Eliott’s downward motions with an upward thrust of his hips that has Eliott’s eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “That wasn’t the first time I saw you.”

“What?” It’s Eliott’s turn to look confused, distracted by the way Lucas has taken over their rhythm, pistoning his hips up harshly, fucking his cock into Eliott again and again. It’s satisfying, seeing the way Eliott’s eyes have glazed over and sweat beads at his temples mixing with the water dripping from his hair, sharp sounds released with every thrust of Lucas’s hips as he stabilizes himself with hands against Lucas’s chest.

“That wasn’t the first time I saw you,” Lucas repeats, moving one hand to Eliott’s erection, jerking him off at a pace matched by the movement of his cock in Eliott’s body. Eliott shudders, eyes closing and expression crumpling, biting harshly at his lower lip, meeting the rise of Lucas’s hips with a downward twist of his own, their skin connecting in a wet slap that echoes through the room, far sexier than it should be. “You were just a teen. So much fucking prettier than you had any right to be.” He can barely get the words out in the midst of their harsh, quick tempo, but he’s determined to.

“You saw me?” Eliott breathes, blinking his eyes open, lids heavy, as he rides Lucas’s cock, his rhythm not slowing but growing more disjointed, more desperate. Lucas wants to imprint the sight of him into memory. It’s obscene. Wild and lost in his own pleasure, cock red and dripping in Lucas’s hand, he’s the best thing Lucas has ever seen. Eliott’s hands move into Lucas’s hair, grasping tightly at the strands, and he struggles to keep his eyes open and on Lucas. “You said – _ungh_ – you said you didn’t–” His eyes close and he lets out a deep throaty moan as a shift in the angle of Lucas’s hips seems to hit him just right. His eyes flutter back open and Lucas can tell he’s close, just on the edge of spilling over. “You said you didn’t have a crush on me – as kids…” He manages between gasps.

“I lied,” Lucas grunts, driving up into Eliott’s body in short hard thrusts, moving his hand to concentrate on pumping just the head of Eliott’s straining erection.

“And – _oh_ _god_ _yeah_ – what did – what did you think?”

Lucas can see he’s fighting it, struggling to keep his eyes open and not let it rush over him. Not yet, not until he has his answer. “I thought you were perfect,” Lucas breathes, desperately staving off his own orgasm by focusing on Eliott. “You weren’t real. A fairy-tale. _Fuck_.” He swipes his thumb over the head of Eliott’s cock, pressing down just slightly beneath the ridge. "The most beautiful boy I’d ever seen."

“Lucas-” Eliott cries out, collapsing forward. His head falls into the crook of Lucas’s neck, his body contracting like a vice around Lucas’s cock and he’s coming, body convulsing with his orgasm. Lucas is only seconds behind, hand loosening around Eliott as he gives in to the pleasure pulsing through him, body shaking apart as he fucks up into Eliott and releases into the condom with a deep groan. Eliott moves their foreheads back together as they shiver with aftershocks.

“Do you want to know what I thought the first time I saw you?” He whispers.

Lucas nods – can’t manage more than that.

“I thought you were so _fucking_ hot.”

* * * *

****

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****

The days leading to the ball aren’t what Lucas expected. He’d thought he wouldn’t see much of Eliott. Lucas had said as much before they’d parted following their interlude at the pool. They’d been changing back into their clothing and Eliott had suggested Lucas come back to stay with him in his room. Lucas had insisted he didn’t need to be babied.

 _“I’m sorry but do I look like the girl you banged at Prom? No need to hold my hand post-fuck, Princeling,”_ Lucas had scoffed.

 _“Ok first, don’t be sexist,”_ Eliott had responded, procuring a dramatic eye roll from Lucas. _“And two, who says I don’t need my hand held? I was told Prom night would be a night to remember. Isn’t that what the Americans say? Pretty sure that includes hand-holding post-sex.”_

The mutual teasing had nearly led to round two. But he’d insisted Eliott needed to be well rested for the busy week ahead. A week of entertaining the Italian Prince he’d reminded, finding the thought didn’t burn quite the same way when he was watching Eliott wobble unsteadily on his feet post-orgasm…. _Lucas-caused_ orgasm, he’d thought with a smug smile.

And yet despite there undoubtedly being a great deal to do in preparation for the event, Eliott somehow found time to visit Lucas in the garage daily. He’d come with lunch on Tuesday, starting an argument when _Rebel Yell_ had been playing and he declared that he didn’t see the appeal of Billy Idol, or the punk rock movement in general, calling it another example of screaming to get a point across. Lucas naturally couldn’t let that slander go and the argument had lasted hours, ending only when they’d both agreed that Billy Idol was at the very least one of the few able to pull off a bleached blond look. On Wednesday he’d arrived during the final hour of the day, chatting Lucas’s ear off about a recent article he’d read on the merits of art in recovery trauma, addiction, and instances of abuse. He’d been bursting with excitement over the possibility of including art therapy as part of the apprenticeship program and suggested that perhaps boxing could play a part as well.

“ _Just think of it, Lucas,”_ he’d bubbled with enthusiasm, “ _the program here could be so much more than work experience. We could incorporate art or physical activity – boxing – as an outlet. Whatever they chose! We could give them a healthy way to express themselves in a safe setting!”_

Lucas had just barely been able to slow him down, just as enthusiastic about the idea, but understanding that perhaps they needed to pace themselves and get the basic apprenticeship program off the ground first. Eliott had called him a _party-pooper_ once again, to which Lucas had taken great offence. Choice words had been exchanged. Lucas may have referred to him as a _sassmonster of my own terrible creation_ before they’d eventually agreed that meeting post-Ball to finally sit down and discuss logistics would be best.

So, Lucas isn’t entirely surprised to see Eliott walking through the door to the garage door on Thursday as he’s touching up the polish on the Chevy. In truth he’s been twiddling his thumbs a bit in the last few days. The cars are done and ready for their showing at the ball. There’s little for Lucas to do and he’s hesitant to begin work on a new project. Seeing Eliott is a welcome distraction. What he doesn’t expect however is Niccolὸ following behind. It’s not that Lucas forgot the Italian Prince was still here, it’s just that without seeing him, it had been an easy topic to put to the back of his mind and ignore entirely. Being faced with him in the flesh makes that a lot more difficult.

“Wow.” Niccolὸ grins, eyes wide as he takes in the space.

“Hey,” Lucas greets, eyes going to Eliott in question.

“Nico leaves after the Ball. He wanted to see all the cars before he goes,” Eliott explains with an easy smile. Lucas prickles at the sight of it.

“I mean they’ll be on display _at_ the Ball,” Lucas responds mulishly. Eliott shakes his head with a slight smile as though he’s _amused_ by Lucas being a sullen, petty mess.

“Marti loves cars,” Niccolὸ says as he runs a hand across the Chevy. “We don’t have this sort of collection. He’d completely lose it if he saw these.”

“It is an incredible collection,” Lucas admits begrudgingly. “Only a few of the antiques are actually driveable. But that’ll change given enough time.”

“You’ll drive them?” Niccolὸ asks.

“Probably,” Lucas shrugs. “Someone has to.” He gestures to Eliott with a disappointed wave of the hand. “This one doesn’t even drive. I’m trying to teach him but he’s _very_ resistant.”

“No?” Niccolὸ asks in surprise.

“It’s not a big deal,” Eliott defends, crossing his arms in a sulk. “Lucas is an amazing driver. Even if I learned to drive, I wouldn’t be that good. I don’t need to learn.” Lucas finds it really, really difficult to tease him after that reasoning. He thinks Lucas is an _amazing_ driver. Fuck. Adorable.

“Marti can’t drive either,” Nicccolὸ admits with a laugh. “He’s obsessed with cars, but he’s scared to drive. I tried to teach him but,” he shakes his head with a sweet grin, “he completely freaked out. It was adorable.”

Adorable? That had sounded… overly familiar. Affectionate. “Sorry,” Lucas interrupts. “I’m a little confused. Marti is one of your friends?”

Niccolὸ looks to Eliott with a quirked smile, an eyebrow raised in question. Eliott nods slightly. When Niccolὸ returns his attention to Lucas, he wears a soft smile, but his eyes are serious.

“Marti is my fiancé.”

“Your…” _Fiancé_? What? What?!!!

Niccolὸ nods, watching Lucas carefully. “We have not made it public just yet but those closest to us know. It will be announced next month.”

Lucas’s head spins with the new information. Niccolὸ has someone… not just someone, a fiancé. He doesn’t want Eliott. He won’t ever. And Eliott knew this? Lucas’s eyes go to him and yes, Eliott’s wearing a happy, relaxed smile. He knew. For how long?

Eliott seems to read the unspoken question in his eyes. “Niccolὸ got to talking this weekend while we were away. He’d mentioned Marti many times in the past, but I hadn’t realized the significance of the relationship.” He chuckles and the two Princes exchange a grin. “I probably should have with the way you speak of him.”

“Probably,” Niccolὸ agrees with a grin. “Our friends say we are very obvious. But you have your own struggles,” he adds sympathetically. “I do not expect you to obsess over my love life.” There is irony in that statement, Lucas thinks. Obsessing over Niccolὸ and his potential love life is exactly what Eliott was supposed to have been doing. That said… Lucas watches Eliott carefully, he doesn’t seem the least bit upset by this news. “I do apologize, Lucas,” Niccolὸ draws his attention back. “I did not mean to be deceptive. I am simply cautious with who I share this news.”

“Oh yeah,” Lucas nods dumbly, utterly stupefied by the change of events. “Of course. Thanks for telling me.”

“Yes well,” Niccolὸ look at Eliott for a moment before his eyes return to Lucas, “I know I can trust you.”

“Yes,” Lucas agrees. His mind is scrambling. There are a million thoughts and questions running through his mind, most of them related to Eliott. He can’t collect any of them. They scurry wild through his brain like pigeons with bread crumbs raining down on them. Lucas fucking hates pigeons. “Um… so…” _Function, brain, function, “_ will Marti be at the Ball with you?”

“Oh no,” Niccolὸ laughs. “We both wanted him to come but as Elia put it, we are ‘way too fucking obvious’.” He shrugs, unapologetic. “We don’t like hiding. Back home, in the Palace and around those who know us, we don’t have to. And it will be easier, once we make the announcement. We will no longer hide at all.”

“That’s amazing.” Lucas smiles, finding the expression comes easily. “Alright. Let’s see him then.”

Niccolὸ lights up. Not needing to be told twice he pulls out his phone quickly.

“Jesus, how old is this phone?” Lucas laughs as Niccolὸ hands him his old Nokia flip-phone. “How do you even post to Instagram?”

“Don’t start. Marti hassles me enough. I only use Instagram on his phone. But look,” he points at the screen, “I still get pictures.”

Lucas snorts, looking down at Niccolὸ’s most recent thread of conversation with his Marti.

“He’s hot.” Lucas smirks.

“He is,” Niccolὸ agrees with a proud smile.

“Will it be a big deal in your country? You and him?” Lucas wonders curiously.

Niccolὸ’s smile dims slightly and he and Eliott exchange another look. It seems their weekend away together has allowed them to develop some sort of unspoken form of communication, and Lucas does his best not to bristle each time they do it. “I am already out,” Niccolὸ begins, “and it was not an easy process, but I believe the worst is behind us. The people love a romance. There will always be those who cry hate,” he shrugs, “but it is worth it. To live as I want. To be who I am. And to love Marti. I would do anything – give up anything – to be with him. It makes it an easy choice. No matter the challenges, or the hate, I choose him.” He says it with raw honestly, so clearly and obviously in love, Lucas can’t believe he ever thought Niccolὸ and Eliott could possibly want one another. Niccolὸ’s love for another is so very clear it glows all around him.

Lucas can’t help but wonder how these sentiments are affecting Eliott. They are everything Eliott wants and everything his mother would prevent him from having. When Lucas turns his head towards Eliott it’s with a shock he realizes Eliott is staring back. He gets caught in his eyes for a moment, in the intensity he finds there. Eliott looks away first, back to Niccolὸ.

“You will invite me to the wedding?” Eliott grins.

“Of course,” Niccolὸ laughs. “You both must come.” His eyes stray to Lucas. “You must meet Marti. You’d… uh,” he laughs softly, “you’d… eventually get along.” He’s giving Lucas that look again. That soft, familiar look.

“What?” Lucas knows there’s more to what Niccolὸ is saying.

“It’s just that,” Niccolὸ and Eliott exchange a smile and Lucas is getting damn sick of feeling like he’s missing part of the conversation, “you’re very similar. You and Marti. Probably too similar.”

“To get along you mean?”

“Probably,” Niccolὸ admits with a laugh. “At least at first. Once you got to know one another though…”

“God,” Eliott snorts. “That much attitude in one room. You sure we want them to meet?” The two of them laugh.

“I thought you hadn’t met him?” Lucas looks to Eliott confused.

“I haven’t,” Eliott grins cheekily. “But I’ve heard enough. Apparently, he’s just as soft and sweet as you.”

“Fuck off. I’m not soft and sweet!”

Niccolὸ and Eliott laugh again, looking equally delighted by Lucas’s reaction. Fucking Princes bonding over teasing him. If he ever meets this Marti, he’s going to have to discuss tag-team humiliating these assholes.

“Anyways,” Niccolὸ chuckles, “I should leave you to your work. The Queen is expecting me.” His smile gentles, and Lucas is unnerved by how quickly it disarms him. “I mean it though. Marti and I would both welcome you to visit.” He glances at Eliott. “Both of you.”

Lucas nods, defensive posture relaxing. He offers a small smile. “Sure. Um, yeah. That would be cool.”

“I’ll catch up with you,” Eliott adds. “Just give me a moment.” Niccolὸ nods and with a final smile at Lucas, leaves.

“You know if I ever do meet this Marti,” Lucas says, turning towards Eliott with a scowl, “he and I are going to spend all our time discussing what assholes you two are.”

Instead of the offense he intended to cause, Eliott reacts with delight, face breaking into a pleased smile. _What the fuck?_ “Ok.”

“Ok…” Lucas agrees, fidgeting under Eliott’s gaze. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Oh.” Eliott's serene smile grows more serious. “Well I probably won’t see you again until the Ball. My mother isn’t going to allow me a moment alone from here on out.”

“Alright.”

Eliott stalls, biting his lower lip as he looks from the door to Lucas and back again.

“What, Eliott?” Lucas laughs lightly. “The Ball’s tomorrow. I think I’ll survive without you here gracing me with your presence for the next twenty-four hours”

“I know.” He nods, looking as though he’s assuring himself more than Lucas. “I know. It’s just that I’ll have to be – it’s an official event – I won’t really be around and–”

“Eliott,” Lucas stops him, “relax. I don’t need you there to hold my hand. I’ll be fine.”

Eliott’s moves into his space, reaching and cradling Lucas’s face between his hands without hesitation. Lucas sucks in a breath, hands moving involuntarily to fist at the bottom of Eliott’s shirt as he stops with only a fragment of space separating them. “Please be careful. With Charles there, with my mother watching you… I don’t want anything to go wrong. It’s a volatile time. I don’t want her to have any excuses to – just please be careful.” His thumbs stroke gently across Lucas’s eyebrows, down to glide across his cheekbones.

Lucas isn’t sure what to do with the feeling swamping him. It overflows, coating every organ. It should be smothering but it’s not. It’s warm and comforting, like a full belly after a satisfying meal. But it’s unfamiliar. Maybe a little startling. To have someone care. Not just care but worry… for him, for his safety. To have someone not expect him to do it all alone. Lucas is capable. He’s more than capable of doing things for himself, taking care of himself, taking care of others. As a matter of fact, it’s probably one thing those around him rely on most – that he’s ok, that he can handle things himself, that he doesn’t need any help, that he can shoulder the responsibilities on his own. It’s rare that someone reciprocates. Someone like Eliott. Someone who wants to help. Who _does_. Someone who worries for Lucas. Someone Lucas trusts.

He brings his hands up to cover Eliott’s, inhaling a shaky breath. “I’ll be ok. I know it may not always seem it, but I know how to behave in these situations. And listen, if asshole Charles approaches me,” Eliott’s brow furrows at the sound of the name, his hands tightening on Lucas’s face, “I promise to count down from ten or something before kicking him in the balls.”

“Lucas…” Eliott begins, voice filled with apprehension.

“Hey,” Lucas interrupts, moving his hands back to Eliott’s shirt, pulling at the material spread across his chest, “I’m joking. If he baits me, I’ll leave, alright? I’ll walk away. I promise.”

Eliott nods, lips pursing with determination. “I’ll find you. If you leave, I’ll come find you.”

“Eliott,” Lucas laughs charmed, “you’re the fucking Prince. You can’t be chasing after me. If I have to leave, I will. And I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Eliott pouts, a stubborn tilt to his lips. “I’ll come find you. If I’m not there to – well, if you have to leave, I’ll find you.”

Lucas exhales, no attempt made to hide his smile. “Whatever you say, Princeling.”

“Ok,” Eliott smiles, so obviously pleased to have gotten his way, Lucas can’t help but roll his eyes just a little in response – barely a roll – but deserved. Eliott’s grin only spreads and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of Lucas’s nose. It startles Lucas into total stillness. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eliott whispers, releasing him and stepping back. Lucas shivers with the loss, the skin of his face prickling as the cold air of the room hits it. He nods, not trusting his voice to speak.

Eliott backs towards the door, somehow miraculously not tripping over the many obstacles in his way. _Smooth motherfucker._ He pauses at the door.

“Bye.” He doesn’t move.

“Leave, you idiot. I’ve got shit to do,” Lucas laughs, so beyond charmed he disgusts himself.

Eliott grins. “You didn’t say bye.”

“What are we - tweens? Neither of us will give in and hang up first? _No, you hang up, no youuuu,”_ he mocks. Eliott only raises an eyebrow waiting. “Fuck,” Lucas exhales. “Fine. _Bye_ , Princeling. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Eliott’s happiness is near bursting from him. It’s infectious, spanning the length of the room, infecting Lucas with a giddy sort of energy making him feel capable of things he has no business entertaining… like besting Idriss in a hand-to-hand match. He should text him after this. Kick Idriss's ass while this burst of confidence still electrifies his blood.

One final smile and Eliott disappears into the hall.

* * * *

“Why aren’t you stressing more? You’re so… Zen. It’s freaking me out.”

Idriss laughs, all relaxed and… Zen. It’s fucking weird. “I don’t know.” He leads the way out of the locker room, freshly scrubbed post-workout. “Manon just has that affect.”

“Yeah I really don’t need the details of your sex life.” Lucas laughs when Idriss turns to scowl at him.

“That’s not what I meant, asshole.” He reaches to smack Lucas on the side of the head, which Lucas blocks, which leads to them grappling in the hall until Lucas gives in and lets him get a firm slap in. “Anyways,” Idriss continues as though they didn’t just have a good two-minute interlude of wrestling, “I just mean she has this calm way of looking at everything. She’s so… in control.”

“Again, don’t need to hear about your sex life.” He raises his hands in surrender with a grin when Idriss shoots him a warning look.

“Her and Eliott. They just seem so… I don’t know. Ready, I guess? To take the reins and do things differently. I’ve never seen Eliott like this.” Idriss glances at him and Lucas tries really, _really_ hard not to show his obvious pleasure at the assessment. “Something about their confidence in what they’re doing… I guess it calms me down, ya know?” He looks to Lucas for understanding.

“Yeah. Strong leadership does that. It inspires confidence. Eliott’s a leader. Doesn’t surprise me Manon is too.”

Idriss smiles. “Fuck. The way you talk about him sometimes. I get why you opened up his eyes, why he sees you the way he does.”

“What way?”

“Yah, fuck off,” Idriss laughs. “If you don’t know, which I seriously doubt, you can ask him yourself.”

Lucas pouts. “You’re an annoyingly good friend to him.”

Idriss hums in agreement.

“You’re seriously not worried about Charles, though?” Lucas continues, directing the subject back to the original topic. “If I’m not allowed to kick him in the balls, I was really counting on you doing it.”

Idriss exhales a slight laugh. “Sorry. I do that and Manon will have _my_ balls.”

“Whipped,” Lucas mumbles… _loudly_.

“Oh really? Who promised Eliott he’d walk away from any confrontation with that asshole, hunh? You really wanna start throwing stones over who’s the most whipped?” Idriss looks at him pointedly. Lucas chooses to stay silent. He’s lost this round anyways. “That’s what I thought. Besides, Manon can handle her own shit. I trust her. She doesn’t need me fucking with her plans.”

“Shit,” Lucas chuckles. “We really are, aren’t we?” Idriss quirks an eyebrow in question. “Whipped,” Lucas clarifies. “We’re so fucking whipped. I’m disgusted for us both.”

Idriss laughs, bringing an arm to wrap around Lucas’s shoulders. “I think I’m ok with it.”

“Yeah, you would be,” Lucas rolls his eyes. “Fucking sucker.” They turn the corner together. “Also did you happen to notice you’re walking me to my room? Because listen man,” he smirks, bringing an arm around Idriss’s back, “you know I would have gone for you in a heartbeat before, but it just wouldn’t be right now.”

“Oh yeah?” Idriss pulls back from Lucas as they reach his door, turning to lean against the opposing wall with a smirk of his own. “Why? Because of Manon or because of Eliott?”

It’s a very clear challenge. Lucas knows this. And he could easily deflect. Throw focus back on Manon and Idriss. He sighs, meeting Idriss’s eyes gaze straight-on, pressing his back against his door. “Both.”

Idriss smiles. It’s genuine. Not particularly victorious, just… genuinely happy.

“So anyways,” Lucas wrenches his eyes away, turning to unlock his door. “If you’re not here to get some of this sweet, sweet ass, was there another reason you followed me home?”

“Yeah,” Idriss sighs, leaning against his door jam. “Lucille asked me to check on Chloe. She’s not answering her messages. Lucy thinks she’s mad. I’ve somehow become a secret-romance messenger or some shit.”

Lucas looks back at Idriss concerned. “Chloe isn’t answering her messages?” Idriss shakes his head in confirmation. “Shit. That’s not good.” He pushes by Idriss to walk to Chloe’s door down the hall. A soft knock on her door doesn’t garner any response. He tries the handle and finding it unlocked pushes the door open. Chloe lays curled in her bed, back to Lucas. But he can tell from the tension through her shoulders, she’s awake. Idriss hovers further away and Lucas glances back at him.

“I got it,” he whispers. “Just tell her I’m taking care of Chloe.” Idriss nods and retreats with a parting wave. “Babe?” Lucas whispers, shutting the door behind him softly. “You down for some cuddles?”

Chloe sniffles but nods. Lucas approaches the side of the bed and lifts the covers, nudging her back with his knee. “Move your cute ass.”

She giggles a little. “You should be nicer to me when I’m upset.” But she flips to face him, pushing back against the wall to make room.

“Please,” he scoffs laying down in front of her and reaching forward to tuck her hair behind her ear, “you’re just being a dramatic brat.”

“Oh my god,” she yells, smacking him on the chest. “Why are you so mean to me?”

“‘Cause you’re cute and you deserve it.”

“Jerk.”

He laughs. “Ok, tell me what’s going on.”

“I think,” she sniffs pitifully, “I just got swept up in it being like a fairy-tale, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Lucas runs a hand back into her hair, scratching lightly along her scalp in a way he always appreciates when done to him.

“Lucille and me. This place. Being in love. It just seemed so perfect. Even with the drama and the hiding. Still it seemed like… a fairy-tale.” She looks miserable as she says it.

“Ok… and that’s a terrible thing why?”

“Fairy-tales aren’t real, Lucas,” she says as though that’s news to him. “I can’t keep believing this is going to work out. Her and Eliott are getting ready to go as a couple to the Ball as we speak.”

“Chloe,” he says with perhaps too little patience, “you know they’re not a couple. They have no interest in being with one another. It’s all for show.”

“Does that matter?” She looks into his eyes, her own glistening with unshed tears. “It’ll be for show with him or someone else. She isn’t ready to tell her parents about us. She might never be. What am I doing? What am I in this for? I just get deeper every day. I love her so much. So much, Lucas.” A tear spills over and he catches it with a gentle finger on her cheek. “What’s the point of continuing this – this _thing_ with her when I’m only going to end up with a broken heart? I should just cut my losses.”

“Fuck,” he sighs. “Ok. I get it. I do. You’re me.” He smiles at the irony in the situation. He’s essentially counseling himself. How the fuck did he get here? “You want to run. It’s easier. I know. But Chloe the future isn’t a given. You run now you guarantee you do it with a broken heart – not just yours but Lucille’s. You don’t know what’s going to happen.” She opens her mouth to protest and he hushes her with a firm finger to her lips. “You don’t, you stubborn little brat. You want to tell yourself it’s all going to blow up in your face because it’s easier. It’s not because you _know_ , it’s because it’s easier than the not knowing. The whole part where you have to trust someone else… it sucks. I get it. It’s not easy to give someone that kind of power but… I don’t know. Maybe some things are worth the risk.”

She sniffles and shuffles forward, tucking her head beneath his chin. Lucas wraps his arms around her in turn. “When did you become such a romantic?” She whispers.

“Jesus,” he laughs. “Eliott says I’m an idealist. You’re calling me a romantic. What the fuck has this place done to me?” She giggles. “I don’t know,” he continues. “I don’t think fairy-tales are what I believed they were when I was a kid. When I was thirteen it was all about being saved, you know? This perfect person was going to sweep in and save me from my shit life and then everything would just be… perfect, I guess.”

“That is what fairy-tales are though; true love, the rescue by the perfect Knight or Prince… happily ever after.”

“Yeah, if you go by the storybooks… or movies or whatever. You know why I always loved The Princess Bride?” She shakes her head. “Because it wasn’t easy. Because they overcame a lot to be together. And they fought and it wasn’t perfect. It was funny and wild and silly and… just totally imperfect. But they are right for one another in the end. They choose one another over and over again.” He pets her hair as he speaks, feeling her nuzzling further into his chest. “I think that’s the fairy-tale, you know? It’s not perfect people. It’s imperfect people who are perfect for one another. It’s the messy stuff but the fun too. And it’s choosing one another despite all the bullshit.”

“You make it sound really easy,” she whispers against his skin.

“Nah, it’s not easy. But it’s true love, yeah? It doesn’t happen every day.” He pokes her side. “C’mon. Tell me you got that reference.”

“Stop poking me!” She swats at his hand irritated. “What reference?”

“ _Chloe_ ,” he whines, “why are you doing this to me?”

She giggles. “I’m kidding. It’s ‘The Princess Bride’, dummy. _Obviously_. I remember that part.”

He settles against her satisfied. “Damn straight you do.”

“Lucas,” she exhales sounding entirely worn out, “would it be ok if we just slept now?”

“Sure, babe. You don’t get handsy at night, do you? Not gonna grab for a boob in your sleep are you?”

She snorts. “No but I will knee you in the crotch if you don’t shut up.”

“Fair.” He bends to kiss her on the top of her head. “Sleep, brat.”

“Love you,” she mumbles and settles down into him, her breathing slowing as she slips into sleep.

He lays awake for a time longer, his thoughts moving in a drowsy sort of stream.

It’s worth it. It’s worth the risk.

* * * *

The Ball is exactly as elaborate as Lucas imagined it would be. Ostentatious really. An excess display of wealth. Not unfamiliar. A relic from another life. Nothing he particularly wanted to revisit. The feelings associated with those memories _absolutely_ nothing he wanted to revisit. But it’s all there: the opulence of the food, the decoration, the dress, the manner with which every person present carries themselves, and the utter disregard for the staff members scurrying to meet their every need. It’s everything Lucas hates about the institution. It’s being done with no other purpose than to display wealth and status. It’s not a charitable affair, no money is being raised. Sure, it’s to honour the burgeoning agreements the monarchies of Italy and France, a powerful symbol of unity and a positive future relationship between countries… nothing to sneeze at. Lucas can see the value in doing so. But to this extent? With such a waste of wealth when there are people starving in the streets? It grates on Lucas to be a part of it – not just a part of it but _party_ to it. He’s just as complicit. His entire job hinges on the existence of this wealth: a priceless car collection. He’s not sure how to reconcile the thoughts in his head. The only relief in his internal turmoil is his and Eliott’s plan – to change things, to do better, to _help_.

Lucas spends the evening standing with the cars on display. They’ve been wheeled into the central foyer and sit as shining spectacles of the King’s memory. The party spills from the main ballroom into the foyer, both spaces excessively crowded, and he’s kept busy speaking to interested guests about the cars. A grand piano sits in the corner of the room. Lucas has watched it throughout the night, but no one has approached it and he hasn’t seen anyone he knows to ask if a pianist has been contracted for any point in the evening. As a matter of fact, there have been few people he’s even recognized. He caught a glimpse of Eliott earlier in the night and it was probably for the best it had been just that – a mere glimpse. The sight of his profile, decked out in a well-fit tuxedo, quickly moving across the ballroom had been devastating enough. In truth Lucas is happy to be a little apart from the main action in the ballroom. He hasn’t seen Charles at all. Niccolὸ either, though he certainly wouldn’t mind seeing the latter. If he manages to avoid facing Charles for the entire evening on the other hand, he might just owe the Gods a sacrifice in thanks. The only truly excruciating part of the evening is watching food go by, knowing there is a wealth available in the ballroom and on the trays of servers offering hors d’oeurves, without being able to sample any of it. All he wants is one of those fancy meringues. And yet he must suffer meringue-less. Life is cruel.

“Can I just hang out with you? Just say fuck my job and hide?”

Lucas turns to watch Idriss approach with a grin. “What trouble could you possibly expect from this posh crowd anyways?”

Idriss expels a breath. “You’d be surprised. The Queen always leaves these parties early… which is like the signal to drink like fish.”

“Yeah but you’re the personal guard. Let contracted security deal with the drunkards. All you have to do is make sure none of those people get fresh with Eliott or Manon and you’re golden. Speaking of, shouldn’t you be with those two? Surprised you unglued yourself from Manon’s ass.”

“They’re with their mother.” The sentence says enough.

“Ah.” Lucas nods. “You two afraid she’ll figure you out?”

“No. She knows about us.” Idriss states it without any importance, as though he were commenting on the weather.

“What the fuck?!” Lucas asks, making up for Idriss’s nonchalance with his own utter shock. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I mean you know how rumours spread in this place. And the other guards report every fucking thing to her. Manon didn’t want that to be the way she found out. Told her right up front. Apparently, she’d already had her suspicions.” He shrugs, entirely unconcerned that his girlfriend’s mother – also his employer – also the _fucking Queen_ – is well aware of his relationship with her only daughter.

“And you’re still here to tell the tale?”

“Guess so.”

Lucas eyeballs him… the relaxed posture, the unbothered shrug, the easy smile. “You’re doing that Zen thing again. It’s weird.”

Idriss laughs. “I don’t know. Manon’s chill, I’m chill. I’ll deal with the shit when it comes.”

“Ugh.” Lucas wrinkles his nose. “Ok this new, in love and secure Idriss disgusts me. Get out of here.”

“Alright, I’m going,” he chuckles good humoured. “The nights going alright for you though?”

Lucas narrows his eyes. “Did Eliott ask you to come check on me?”

Idriss shrugs with a grin. “He might have.”

“I’m fine. I’m behaving. No spiteful English Princes in sight. Tell him to relax.” Fucking adorable Princes insisting on worrying about him.

“You can tell him yourself. The second he can escape his mother’s clutches I’m sure he’ll be headed your way.” Idriss gives him a significant look, eyes tracking quickly up-and-down. And yeah, Lucas knows he looks good. None of the clothing is his of course. All staff were fitted and provided with appropriate black-tie event outfits. Lucas had voraciously refused to wear the full ensemble the rest of the event staff had been forced to adorn – that vest was just absolutely _not_ happening. He’d won the argument with Arthur only because he was in fact regarded a separate entity from the rest of the staff members and _you wouldn’t want me to be asked to go fetch someone their third cocktail when I’m supposed to be seen as the antique car expert now would you, Arthur?_ As such he wears a pair of fitted black slacks and a crisp button-up white collar shirt, and jacket. And yes, perhaps there was a bowtie to complete the look but if they wanted him to wear a bowtie, they should have provided one that clipped on. Lucas can’t imagine who they think he is, giving him a bowtie he was supposed to tie himself. Nonsense! And so, he’s a little bit more on the casual side with his shirt unbuttoned perhaps one too many buttons than Arthur would have liked. But Arthur is too busy wrangling the rest of the staff to give Lucas much attention and well, the point is, Lucas knows he looks good.

He raises a provocative brow at Idriss. “Well in that case you tell _him_ to behave. I have a very dignified, professional manner to maintain tonight.”

“Yes, dignified and professional is exactly how I’d describe you,” Idriss deadpans.

“You’re blinded by your lust for me. I’m more than my ass, Idriss.” Lucas presses a hand to his chest, all melodrama and angst.

“Ok that’s my cue, I’m leaving.”

“Think of me!” Lucas yells after him, turning a few curious heads his direction.

As the night continues crowds move in and out of the ballroom at their leisure. Back-aching from standing on the hard marble all evening, Lucas makes his way towards the piano in the corner of the room. No one has touched it all night and there’s no one milling about particularly close. Music plays in the main ballroom, but it seems a shame that the piano has been left to sit desolate in the space. He does a quick glance around him, but no one is paying him any mind. That’s the nice thing about being staff, you are invisible unless needed. He sits down at the bench, opening the piano cover and running his fingers gently across the keys. It’s been years since he’s touched a piano. The last time must have been at his mother’s care home. A small electric keyboard sits in their social room and when his mother is in the right mood Lucas has been known to entertain her with it. A piano like this however he hasn’t touched since he was a child. It’s beautiful. His mom would love it. He plunks down a few keys clumsily – and in key. He can’t help but wonder if anyone in the Royal family plays. It seems a shame it should sit here in pristine condition and get no use.

“Well, if it isn’t the mechanic.”

Lucas should have expected it. The moment his defenses are down, the one time he thinks himself invisible, of course he wouldn’t be to _him_. Fucking Charles. Lucas swings himself on the bench towards Charles, keeping his eyes low.

“Your Royal Highness.” He offers the most dignified bow of his head he can manage from seated position. “My apologies I should get back to the cars.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Charles laughs and Lucas makes the mistake of looking up at him. He’s surrounded by a number of other men, all sporting the exact same smug, calculating grin as Charles. Fuck. He’s got an audience then, a happy little group of bootlickers just waiting for him to put on a show. This is not going to end in Lucas’s favour. “Please, please do continue.”

“I’m sorry?” Lucas asks, genuinely confused.

“Your talent I’m sure will astound,” Charles mocks. “Those first few notes you played were truly what music is all about.” The men around him laugh and Charles’s grin grows.

“You want me to play?” Lucas isn’t even playing dumb. He genuinely doesn’t understand how this is the worst Charles could come up with. Even if Lucas didn’t know how to play the piano, as Charles is assuming, it’s hardly the most inspiring choice for humiliation. But then intellect and creativity have never been a pre-requisite for bullying, Lucas supposes. 

“Well sure,” Charles laughs, malice clear in every note. “What do you think, boys?” He turns to gesture to the men surrounding him. He barely looks at them. Lucas wouldn’t be surprised if Charles didn’t even know their names. “Wouldn’t you like to hear a tune?” There are murmurs of agreement among the group. Charles points to the piano keys. “Surely they pay you to do more than tinker with car engines?”

“Sorry.” Lucas smiles tightly. “Pianist is in fact not one of my job duties.”

“Ah,” Charles nods in false understanding. “Just the cars then? Hm. Funny that.” Lucas doesn’t want to know where this is going but short of physically pushing Charles and his compatriots out of the way, he has no escape route. “I checked around, you know. Not a lot of information about you, is there? To be hired by the Royal Palace you’d expect an employee of unsurpassed pedigree and expertise. You however…” He looks around to the men surrounding him as though they’ve all been engaged in this thoroughly intriguing subject. “No one seems to know what lead to your appointment here.” He tilts his head, smiling cruelly. “Strange isn’t it?”

The ridiculous part is Lucas doesn’t even know what Charles is hoping to unearth. Sure, Lucas got the job through connections and only proved his merit after-the-fact. But that’s hardly an unusual way to get a job in a world with so many vying for so few opportunities. Relying on the word of a friend to land his position is not something he’s particularly proud of but it’s not a source of humiliation either. That Charles thinks he’s landed on something especially scandalous is just… stupid.

“I suppose it depends on your definition of strange,” Lucas responds. He knows he shouldn’t bait him. He should walk away. It’s what he promised Eliott. But there’s no real opportunity to do so and if he can’t physically backhand Charles, at the very least he’d like to verbally do so.

“Oh? Do tell.” Charles smirks.

“Well I imagine earning employment based on skill, character, and an affable disposition might be a little strange to those born into title, those who enjoy a position earned by birthright versus merit. But then I suppose employment – contributing to society in general – might be _quite_ unfamiliar to some.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Lucas knows that, knew it before he opened his mouth, but he can’t regret it. Not when it causes Charles to look like _that_. Lucas has gotten to him. It’s written clearly across his face, twisted in anger. He’s too slow to hide it, or perhaps too enraged. The men around him look slightly shocked and one unsuccessfully smothers a laugh. When Charles does rein back his reaction, it’s with a forced smile, transparent in its waxy quality.

“Ah, there’s that attitude I warned Eliott about. Funny how he’s kept you around all the same.” He moves behind Lucas slowly and Lucas has no choice but to turn towards the piano to maintain any sort of confident affect. Charles means to intimidate Lucas by standing directly behind him. The thing is, Lucas is, if not intimidated, threatened. Charles rests his hands on Lucas’s shoulders and Lucas instantly tenses. He couldn’t help it if he tried. He wants to bolt. He wants to say fuck his pride, throw Charles’ hands off him, and run. But Eliott has just walked into the room. Lucas’s eyes go to him as though drawn to the opposing side of a magnet. He stands across the crowd, at the entrance to the ballroom and he’s scanning the space, looking towards the cars. It takes a moment, but his eyes continue across the room until finally they land on Lucas, connecting immediately with Lucas’s gaze. “I wonder why,” Charles continues. Eliott’s eyes go to Charles, down to his hands on Lucas. His eyebrows pull together, his eyes narrowing. “What is it you offered? To get this job… for Eliott to keep you around. I’ve heard about you,” Charles chuckles and he’s squeezing Lucas’s shoulders now in an uncomfortable, suggestive sort of massage. Eliott’s face has transformed with anger and he’s begun moving towards them. People attempt to interrupt him in his course, but he ignores them as he pushes through the crowd. Charles speaks louder, directing his next comments to his crowd of admirers. “He likes dick boys.” Uncomfortable laughter follows. Eliott is getting closer. “I wonder if that’s it.” Charles bends down, his head next to Lucas’s. “Maybe that’s where your talents lay,” he whispers. “You must give fucking great head.” Eliott’s face is red. He looks murderous. This won’t be a case of him placating Charles or playing peacemaker. Lucas is sure of it. He looks like he’s planning to rip Charles’ head off the moment he’s within reach. Charles puts his lips to Lucas’s ear, and it sends ripples of disgust coursing through Lucas’s body. “That might just be a skill I need to experience for myself.”

“ _Charles_.” Eliott’s voice. Standing across the piano from them now, jaw locked and vibrating with anger. Charles straightens in surprise, removing his hands from Lucas. Eliott makes a motion to come around the piano towards them. Lucas plays.

There’s no grace to the way he begins. He plonks down the keys harshly, the sound shockingly loud. Eliott freezes in his movements. Lucas didn’t even have a particular song in mind, but it seems his fingers know what to do all the same. His rhythm is initially clumsy, anxiety stiffening his fingers, but as the harmony builds, he relaxes. The pleasure of playing again floods through him and he gives himself to the notes, fingers moving seamlessly across the keys. Midway through he raises his eyes, finding Eliott’s on him, his expression soft and awed all at once. When their eyes meet the corner of Eliott’s mouth pulls up slightly. It’s all the approval Lucas needs. He closes his eyes and throws himself into the melody, playing with vigor now, letting the music weave a path through his body until it extends, reaches across the space separating them and finds Eliott. As the song comes to a close, Lucas opens his eyes, keeping them on his fingers as they play the final chords, one singular note singing across the space until it tapers into silence.

Lucas’s eyes naturally rise back to Eliott’s, whose gaze has not strayed, resting gently on Lucas. There’s a new quality to his gaze. Still awed, but with a certainty to it now. Confident, as though he’s not that surprised… as though he’s made a decision.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises.” Charles voice slices through the silence like a dull knife, ineffective but wielded with purpose all the same.

“Get away from him.” Eliott’s previously soft demeanor is nowhere to be seen. He’s pulled his shoulders back and risen to his full height. The power imbued in his posture radiates from him, making him look far taller and broader than he is. And there’s a restrained violence to his rigidity. Lucas can’t let him do this. There was a time not that long ago this is all he wanted, for Eliott to stand up to Charles. But the stakes in him doing so are suddenly crystal clear, in a way that has never felt more resonant. Eliott understands the burden of people relying on him just as keenly as Lucas. Chloe, Lucille, Idriss, Manon… everyone they hold dear count on Eliott to make good decisions to ensure all of their future happiness. Becoming physically violent with the Prince of England is not going to be one of those decisions.

“Excuse me.” Lucas slides on the bench, pushing up and away. The assholes who had accompanied Charles surprisingly part immediately, making room for him to pass.

“Lucas.” It’s Eliott’s voice calling after him but Lucas doesn’t pause, doesn’t look back, doesn’t turn to wait. Eliott will follow. Lucas is sure of it.

He moves immediately for the side hall, opposite of the ballroom, leading further into the Palace. He passes by one of the security guards he’d met earlier. The man looks at him curiously but doesn’t stop his passage. Lucas hurries down the hall. Lit only by the dimmed hallway lights there’s an eerie, almost spooky quality to the silent hallway. Lucas only stops once he reaches a small nook with a window. He moves back and out of sight, pressing himself against the cold pane of the window and waits.

* * * *

Lucas doesn’t have to wait long until Eliott appears. His head is down and he’s texting on his phone. Lucas’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it.

“Eliott.”

Eliott stops in place, head whipping towards where Lucas stands in the darkened nook of the hallway.

“Lucas.” He takes a step towards him before freezing. His voice is shaking as he speaks, and he trips over his words. “I’m so sorry. I know – I know it’s not good enough. He shouldn’t have been here. I should have acted earlier. I never should have made you believe it was _you_ who had to restrain yourself. God and he put his hands on you.” Eliott’s hands clench into fists at his sides. “I wanted to kill him. And – and I know, I know it’s not good enough.” He looks desperately at Lucas, eyes desolate and searching. “I just – I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I can’t–”

Lucas has heard enough. “Eliott. Shut up.”

“What?” Eliott’s voice breaks on the word. His expression bleak as though expecting the worst.

Lucas steps forward and grabbing the collar of Eliott’s tux jacket he pulls him down, pressing their lips together. The kiss is brief. A soft press of lips. Lucas lets it linger only for a moment before he pulls back. He doesn’t move far, grip tight on Eliott’s jacket and standing on his tiptoes, Lucas keeps his face near enough to make his intent clear but far enough that Eliott could easily pull back should he choose.

Eliott is frozen, his body stiff and stock-still. His eyes are wide and locked on Lucas, his lips parted. He exhales a shaky breath and then he’s moving, pushing Lucas harshly backwards with a tight grip to his waist until he hits the window with a thud. And then his lips are on Lucas’s. It’s a hard, rough press of lips. Eliott is one of the gentlest people Lucas has ever met. There is nothing gentle about his kiss. His hands rise to clasp Lucas’s face, holding him in place as he slants their mouths together, kissing him hungrily. Lucas’s head tips back against the windowpane with the force of the kiss but he meets Eliott’s ferocity with equal fervor, arms wrapping around Eliott’s neck to pull him closer. Eliott’s arms encircle Lucas’s back in kind, crushing their chests together as his tongue begs entrance, gliding along Lucas’s lower lip until he decides in his impatience to bite at it, teeth tugging until Lucas groans deeply, opening his mouth and allowing Eliott in. Their tongues meet in a slick glide and Eliott’s hands tighten and tug at the back of Lucas’s shirt, moving down until they find his ass, squeezing and kneading through the material as their mouths move together… tasting one another… breathing one another. Too distracted by the press of Eliott’s mouth, Lucas realizes belatedly that Eliott is trying to lift him, encouraging Lucas to wrap his legs around Eliott’s waist. And fuck Lucas wants to. He wants to wrap himself around Eliott, let Eliott press him against the window and grind them together until they can’t take it anymore, until they come together in their pants, mouths pressed together without parting. But one of them needs to think beyond immediate gratification. They’re in an open hallway. A hallway security will be routinely checking. A hallway anyone else with authority, be it a family member or staff, could walk down at any moment. Lucas is done being interrupted.

Lucas rips his mouth away from Eliott with some difficulty. “Eliott,” he gasps. Only Eliott won’t be dissuaded from his task, and his mouth moves to Lucas’s jaw, teeth biting and mouth sucking as he runs his lips down to Lucas’s neck. His hands on Lucas’s ass pull and shift them together until his thigh is pressed against Lucas _just right_ and he grinds up with it. Lucas moans loudly, unable to stop himself. “Eliott, we can’t. Not here,” he manages, eyes closed. His hand moves to Eliott’s hair, and he means to tug at the strands, to pull Eliott up and away but god it feels good… Eliott’s mouth on his neck, the way he teethes at the skin before sucking. “God. _Fuck_ ,” Lucas sighs, hand clutching to Eliott but making no move to pull him away. Eliott’s mouth moves back to Lucas’s jaw, trailing until he can connect their mouths once more. It’s more than kissing. It burns through Lucas, filling him with a heat he’s never felt before, it builds until it pours out his skin, wrapping around them both, warmth like true happiness.

Lucas needs to regain control. He brings his hands to push at Eliott’s chest, initially gentle and then with more pressure until Eliott is forced to release his purchase of Lucas’s lips. “Eliott,” Lucas tries again, voice weak and affected, “we need to–” Seemingly heard enough Eliott surges forward once more, intent on reclaiming Lucas’s mouth in a kiss. Lucas holds him fast, a giggle bursting from him at Eliott’s persistence. At the sound of his laughter, Eliott pauses in his pursuit, a smile breaking across his face. He brings a hand to cup Lucas’s face, thumb moving to brush along Lucas’s lower lip until he finds Lucas’s dimple, sinking his thumb down into it. “Eliott we need to get out of the hallway.” Eliott’s eyes are still on his lips and it makes Lucas snort. “Eliott. Fuck.” Lucas shoves a little at his chest with another giggle he can’t help. “Snap out of it. We need to go somewhere else. Your room?” That seems to do the trick. Eliott’s eyes rise to meet his as he digests the words spoken. “Your room?” Lucas tries again, not entirely sure Eliott’s brain is even functioning. It should maybe be frustrating. Instead Lucas finds he’s flattered… and maybe a little empathetic. He feels a little like he’s floating himself.

“No,” Eliott shakes his head grinning. He pulls back from Lucas, grabbing his hand. “Come on.” Eliott leads them quickly down the hall, dragging Lucas behind him while throwing the occasional giddy smile over his shoulder.

He stops them in front of an imposing door. It’s…

“The library,” Eliott says grinning. “Promised I’d take you.

“Uh, yeah,” Lucas nods nervously. 

Eliott opens the door and turns to walk backwards, pulling Lucas along with him.

“It’s my favourite place in the whole Palace.”

“Yeah?” Lucas pulls his hand from Eliott’s moving past him into the space. It’s a two-story room, open at the center. Large windows bath the entire room in moonlight. Art lines the opposing lower wall. Rows and rows of books fill every other space. A large impressive oak long-table fills the center of the space while a set of cozy reading chairs are situated nearer the window. It looks like something out of a fantasy… a fairy-tale. “Wouldn’t have guessed the library,” Lucas lies. “Brian is in your bedroom after all. How can that not be your favourite?” He turns to smile at Eliott.

Eliott stands near the door watching Lucas with a smile. He shrugs. “I like my bedroom too. But this is… different. It’s my refuge. No one ever comes here except Manon sometimes. I can come here to be alone. It’s so peaceful.”

“Bringing me to the place you like to be alone, hunh?” Lucas teases.

Eliott walks towards him stopping only when he’s close enough to rest his hands on Lucas’s waist. “This is different. It’s you.”

Lucas moves his own hands to Eliott’s tux jacket, fussing with the buttons until the come undone and he can slip his hands underneath, resting them against Eliott’s stomach. “Only me?” Eliott shrugs a little. “What’s that look supposed to mean?” Lucas laughs poking at his stomach.

Eliott snickers, bringing his hands up to cup Lucas’s face, thumb brushing across a cheekbone. “There was a boy once.”

“Oh yeah?” Lucas whispers, blinking up at him slowly.

“Mmm,” Eliott hums smiling a little.

“Brought someone else here to seduce with your smooth moves, did you?”

“No,” Eliott chuckles. “Or well… maybe a little,” he allows. Lucas laughs. “But we were kids. It wasn’t anything scandalous so get your mind out of the gutter.” He grins pushing his thumbs into Lucas’s dimples. “I just liked him. And I wanted to bring him to my spot.”

“Is that right?” Lucas grins. “You’ve had this move going for you since you were a kid? And look at us now. Stood the test of time.”

“Shut up,” Eliott laughs, running his hands back into Lucas’s hair to tug at the strands. “It wasn’t that calculated. It’s still not. It was special then. It’s special now. You’re the only other person I’ve brought here.”

“So, who was he?” Lucas asks carefully.

Eliott’s smile dims, his expression turning somber. “Um… I’m not totally sure.”

Lucas expels a laugh of disbelief. “Wow. Yeah, he sounds really special.”

Eliott’s hands tighten in his hair, tugging slightly in disapproval. “Hush,” he reprimands. “It’s just that I wasn’t very well.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes dropping as he swallows before looking back to Lucas cautiously. “It was the first time I experienced a manic episode. I hadn’t been diagnosed – or had any sort of symptoms truly acknowledged up to that point. I was fifteen and there was so much pressure from my mother to _step into my role_.” He speaks the words harshly. “I just couldn’t take it anymore and… I don’t know. I guess I broke. And I ran. And he was there.”

“And so, that’s why?” Lucas asks quietly. “Because he was there?”

“No,” Eliott sighs as though frustrated he’s not explaining himself the way he would like. “There was something about him.” Eliott’s eyes scan across Lucas’s face. “He was beautiful. And sweet. Shy but… alive. And… he wanted to escape as badly as I did. I could just tell.” He smiles a little sadly in reminiscence. “He was like me.” One of his hands combs gently through Lucas’s hair. “And we understood one another. Even… as unwell as I was, I remember that.”

“And what happened?” Lucas asks dropping his eyes to where he fiddles with a button on Eliott’s shirt.

Eliott brings one hand down to stroke over Lucas’s lips with his thumb. “What do you think?”

Lucas gasps with exaggerated drama, eyes flying back to Eliott. “Why Eliott Demaury! You mean to tell me you took that boy here and _kissed_ him. My, my, my,” he shakes his head with a grin, “if these walls could talk.”

“Idiot,” Eliott laughs.

“And then what?”

Eliott’s face instantly darkens. “Um. Like I said, I wasn’t well. I don’t know if I asked his name. I don’t remember the night very well. Just feelings and… flashes of memory.” One of Eliott’s fingers moves to trace a circle from Lucas’s eyebrow down and around his eye. “Blue eyes.” The finger traces down to the side of his mouth. “A smile.” His hand drops to Lucas’s shoulder. “Then… our parents. And…” He shrugs uncomfortable. “I never saw him again. I wanted to ask my mother but… and well… I guess it was a little scary. He saw me at my worst and we were only kids. It was a lot. So, I didn’t. And I lost him.”

“That’s sad,” Lucas comments quietly.

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees.

The mood has darkened and Lucas won’t stand for that. He smiles a little, encouraging Eliott to do the same. “But a kiss, hunh? Bet it was a good one. Teen Eliott must have been something.”

Eliott rolls his eyes. _Thirteen_. An unlucky number. Lucas will just need to get him rolling his eyes again soon. “Oh yeah, I’m sure it was something to write home about.”

Lucas pulls back and away from him, turning to walk further into the center of the space. He throws a flirty look over one shoulder. “So, a kiss. A first kiss. Right here?”

Eliott laughs. “That wasn’t my first kiss.”

Lucas turns back startled. “Oh. Yeah.” He forces a laugh, embarrassed. “Of course. Sorry, I don’t know why I said that.”

“Lucille would be _very_ offended,” Eliott grins easily.

“Right,” Lucas nods chuckling. “Um, so,” he tilts his head towards the rest of the room, wiggling an eyebrow, “you going to show me around or what? You might be able to convince some innocent kid to kiss you in here but I’m going to need to be impressed first.”

Eliott bites his lower lip delighted by the challenge. “You want to see my favourite spot?”

“Is ‘favourite spot’ code for taking me to some tucked away corner to make out?”

Eliott laughs. “No!” His forehead wrinkles as he seems to rethink his answer. “Actually… maybe.” Lucas laughs. “It’s my favourite spot and I would not be averse to making out with there. Let’s put it that way.” He moves past Lucas, turning to walk backwards as he faces him. “Coming?”

“God,” Lucas exhales. “You’re so fucking smooth sometimes I don’t get where the fuck you came from.” Eliott grins and satisfied Lucas is following, he turns to lead the way along the back wall, past rows and rows of books. The space darkens as they move from the light streaming through the window.

“Shit,” Lucas trips over seemingly nothing. “It’s fucking dark. I can’t see anything.”

Eliott’s teeth glint as he turns to smile at Lucas. “Yes, that tends to happen when there are no lights.”

Lucas’s eyes narrow, recalling a time he’d said nearly those exact same words to Eliott. “Don’t you start, sasspup.”

“Why?” Eliott walks back towards him, though Lucas would really call that a swagger. “Don’t tell me you’re scared now.”

Lucas scoffs, reaching forward to shove Eliott roughly in the chest. “You’re not getting any more kisses if you keep teasing me like this.”

“You sure?” God who is this cocky, sassy…

“Asshole.”

Eliott laughs but turns to continue leading them down the corridor towards the back of the library. The wall to their left is lined with art. And while it’s difficult to make out in the dark, Lucas can only imagine the priceless pieces he’s passing, entirely unaware. Just as it’s getting dark enough that Lucas is about to give in and pull out his phone to turn on his flashlight – guaranteed teasing and all – Eliott comes to a stop, flicking on a small table lamp. It bathes the space in a subtle, soft glow. He turns back to Lucas with a sweet smile. Lucas takes in the space. It’s a comfortable reading nook. Though it doesn’t necessarily look like it was meant to be as such. There’s a couch angled from the wall, too large for the small space, a table jammed into the corner, the lamp with its cord stretching awkwardly down the wall to an inconveniently placed outlet. There’s an art piece hanging on the wall opposing the couch. In fact, it looks like the couch has been positioned to face it. Eliott motions for Lucas to come closer and Lucas does so, stopping when he’s reached Eliott’s side, turning to look at the artwork with him.

“It’s my favourite in the whole collection,” Eliott whispers.

There’s no need to whisper but for some reason it feels appropriate. Lucas keeps his voice low too. “It’s sort of… scary, isn’t it?” It’s an etching of a woman surrounded by what looks like winged demons. She swings her arms and a leg out, but not in defense. There’s an almost placid look on her face. The demons on the other hand are grotesque and misshapen. Below her reads _No te escarparas._

“Maybe,” Eliott agrees. “I never thought so. Or… I did and I didn’t.” He moves a little closer, tracing his finger in the air above the words. “You will not escape,” he reads, looking back to Lucas. “It’s the Goya I told you about. Do you remember?”

“I remember.”

Eliott smiles a little. “I don’t know. I think even when I was smaller, I knew I was battling with demons. Even before the manic episode and the diagnosis, I battled with my mind. I didn’t _see_ demons, but I was constantly battling. Not just myself. Everything around me. My mother, my title, everyone’s expectations.” He looks back to the painting. “She doesn’t look scared, does she?”

“No,” Lucas agrees. “She looks calm. Happy even.”

“That’s what I thought,” Eliott nods, pleased. “Like she’s at peace with the demons. She always looked like she was dancing to me.” Eliott’s finger traces her shape in the air. “I know it’s a weird picture for a kid to like but it always brought me peace. It made me feel like there was hope. The worries wouldn’t go away, but I’d learn to dance with them.”

“Is that what it means? What Goya meant?” Lucas steps a little closer, pressing himself against Eliott’s side as he examines the piece.

“No,” Eliott laughs. “Maybe a little. But I think it was meant to be a critique of the values of early modern Spanish society. Like the institutions… the conflict between religious values and the enlightenment.”

“I like your interpretation more.”

Eliott turns his face towards him. “Thanks.”

Lucas’s face heats a little under Eliott’s continued attention. “Well,” Lucas shoves his shoulder into Eliott, pushing past him to walk towards the couch, turning to face Eliott, he perches on the armrest, “you got me here. What are you going to do with me?”

Eliott moves towards him, leaving a frustrating space between them when he stops. “I have some ideas.”

This distance just isn’t working for Lucas. He leans forward, hooking a finger in Eliott’s belt loop and pulls as he leans back. Eliott comes willingly, fitting into the space between Lucas’s legs. His hands instantly cradle Lucas’s face, tipping it up towards him. He leans down slowly, gently fitting their lips together. Lucas’s eyelids flutter closed as he sinks into the soft kiss. It’s calmer than their former frenzy but the air around them electrifies all the same. Lucas can feel it, desire manifested as static, buzzing and snapping in his ears. Eliott sucks on Lucas’s lower lip, pulling it into his mouth, drawing a soft sigh from Lucas, before pressing a little firmer, their lips moving rhythmically with one another. It feels better than Lucas ever imagined kissing could – better than his memory tells him it was. Kissing Eliott. He tugs restlessly where his finger is still hooked in Eliott’s belt loop. Lucas couldn’t even say what he’s hoping for, just that he needs Eliott closer, he needs more. It causes Eliott to stumble slightly into him. He snickers against Lucas’s mouth, pulling back to smile down at him. Lucas blinks his eyes open slowly, head still tilted in Eliott’s hands, lips still puckered. Eliott’s smile grows and the thumb from one hand moves to press down on Lucas’s lower lip.

“I thought…” he whispers, trailing off as he looks down at Lucas. “I thought you didn’t like it.”

“What?” Lucas whispers back, brow furrowing in confusion.

Eliott’s thumb moves to the corner of his mouth, pressing down slightly. “Kissing. I thought maybe you just didn’t like it. Or you didn’t want it… from me.”

Lucas swallows, pulling his lips into his mouth for a moment to wet them. “No. I like it. I just…”

“What?” Eliott’s gaze moves from Lucas’s lips to meet his eyes. His curiosity gentle yet prodding. “You what?”

Lucas steels himself before answering, voice tentative and paper thin. “I’ve only been kissed by one person.”

Elliott’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Only one other person?” Lucas stays quiet. “Fuck. How is that possible?” His eyes scan across Lucas’s face, taking in every feature before landing once more on his lips. “You should be kissed every day.” Lucas exhales a laugh, shaking his head a little and dropping his eyes. Eliott doesn’t release his hold despite Lucas’s attempts to pull away, holding firmly and tipping Lucas’s chin back up until they’re eyes once more meet. “Yes,” he says firmly, “you should.”

“You’re…” Lucas sighs, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “ridiculous. And romantic.”

One of Eliott’s shoulders bounces up in a cute semi-shrug. “Maybe. So then,” he bites his lower lip nervously, “why me? Why’d you kiss me?”

Lucas doesn’t hesitate. “Because it’s you.” It’s really that simple. It always has been. It’s always been Eliott. Before Lucas ever allowed himself to think it – trust it – the simple fact: it’s always been Eliott.

Eliott’s mouth parts in surprise, his eyes luminous and awed. “ _Fuck_.” And then his lips are on Lucas’s again. Lucas’s head jerks back with the force of the kiss, just barely able to respond before Eliott’s arms are wrapping around him, one around his back the other at his ass, lifting. He let’s Eliott manhandle him, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s shoulders and meeting the kiss hungrily. And then they’re falling. Lucas’s back hits the cushions of the couch with a bounce. The fact that neither of them allowed their mouths to part means their faces knock together painfully as Eliott lands on top of him.

“Ow.” Eliott pulls back, rubbing his forehead with a cringe.

Lucas snorts. “That’s what you get. Throwing me around all sexy-like.”

“Did I hurt you?” Eliott moves his hand to brush it against Lucas’s forehead.

“I have a hard head,” Lucas grins.

“Yeah,” Eliott exhales with an affectionate smile. “I know.”

Lucas is pretty sure he should be offended by Eliott’s interpretation of that statement but Eliott takes the opportunity to bend down once more connecting their mouths. He drops his body weight onto Lucas, blanketing him fully. It’s comforting, the weight of him. Not smothering as Lucas might have imagined it to be. And he kisses and he kisses Lucas. He barely allows time to breathe, parting their lips for only split seconds at a time before he reclaims Lucas’s lips, massaging, biting, licking. Lucas sinks bonelessly into each press of contact, soft in Eliott’s arms. His own hands run across Eliott’s chest, down to his abs until, in an attempt to wrap his arms around Eliott the bulk of the tuxedo jacket becomes a frustrating impediment.

“Off, off, off,” Lucas mumbles against Eliott’s lips. It takes a little more prodding than that until Eliott gives in, realizing he must allow space between them in order to strip himself of his jacket. He pulls back to a kneel between Lucas’s legs, ridding himself of his jacket with impatient, nearly violent movements. It makes Lucas snort and he spreads his legs a little wider, leaning up on an elbow to reach forward with a hand to Eliott’s shirt, pulling at the buttons. “Shirt too.” Eliott does as told with a mischievous smile. Hands moving to pull at his bowtie before they continue to the buttons.

“You too.” Eliott nods towards him, eyes going down to Lucas’s shirt in clear suggestion.

Lucas smirks, flopping back down to the couch. He moves his arms to cross behind his head. “Might need a little help.”

Eliott strips himself of his shirt, tossing it to the ground alongside his jacket and leans to hover over Lucas. His smile lights up his entire face, contagious enough that Lucas can feel his own smile grow unwittingly. Eliott bends down, pressing a kiss to the tip of Lucas’s nose before they migrate down.

“Hey!” Lucas protests, hands coming to yank at Eliott’s hair as Eliott seems determined to go in for another kiss. “Don’t get distracted now, Princeling. Rid me of this fowl material.”

Eliott snickers. “You don’t like it?” He props himself up slightly, sliding one finger from Lucas’s neck down to follow the line of Lucas’s collar, stopping when he reaches the first button, he pops it open.

Lucas shrugs a little. “It’s just… all stiff and restrictive. Give me grease stained, ratty old t-shirts over this any day of the week.”

Eliott’s fingers continue on their path, his eyes tracking them as he pops open button after button. He smiles at Lucas’s answer. “Well you look hot.”

“You saying I don’t when I’ve been working under a car for hours and I’m greasy and smelly?”

Eliott’s smile grows. “No. You definitely look hot then too. Nearly gave me a heart attack the first time I saw you like that.” He’s reached the bottom of Lucas’s shirt and he motions for Lucas to assist him in pulling it off completely. Lucas does so, sitting up enough that they’re able to somewhat awkwardly strip him of it. Eliott collapses back down on top of him with a happy sigh the moment their skin connects. He wraps a hand beneath Lucas’s head, the other cupping his face.

“Heart attack, hm?” Lucas grins. “If only I’d known.”

“You definitely knew,” Eliott snorts. “It’s unfair. Somehow you knowing how hot you are, makes you hotter.”

“Mmm. I believe they call that _cocky_.” Lucas leans up to nudge his nose against Eliott’s, rubbing the two together, whispering, “Now kiss me please?”

Eliott doesn’t need to be told twice. They lose themselves in kissing. The joy of it runs through Lucas’s body, filling and overflowing inside him. He’s never been kissed like this. He’s never allowed it. He’s never kissed just to kiss. He’s never given himself to the pleasure of lips on his, igniting pleasure receptors through his body in one overwhelming wave. And sure, the way Eliott lays between his thighs, hips moving in minute shifts against him, both of them stiff and aching in their pants, suggests eventual satisfaction involving more than lips but… there is no rush to find it. They kiss without hurry, faces moving in perfect synchronicity. Their lips smack together quietly. One of Eliott’s hands cups Lucas’s face, thumb pressing into his jaw, holding him steady and in place. Though Lucas has no intention of breaking the kiss, Eliott affords him no opportunity. Eliott’s other hand runs down Lucas’s chest, thumb gliding across a nipple, sending sparks running like a live current through Lucas’s body.

“Lucas,” Eliott whispers against his lips. No particular purpose to it – neither a question nor demand – simply saying Lucas’s name to say it. He rubs their lips together, brushing back and forth as he repeats himself in a soft whisper. “Lucas.” It’s as though he’s tasting the sound, testing the flavour of Lucas’s name on his tongue. Lucas’s hands press into his hair, tightening in the strands. He blinks up at Eliott. He’s here. He’s really here. With Eliott. Kissing him. Being with him. Just him. It feels entirely unbelievable and yet… it’s true. It’s as true as the way Eliott’s mouth twitches up at the corners at the look on Lucas’s face. As true as the frantic need Lucas feels to press their lips together once more. He surges up, pulling Eliott down and reconnected their lips. There’s a new level of desperation driving them now and ignoring the needs of their bodies is no longer possible. Lucas’s hands move down Eliott’s back until he reaches his ass, clutching firmly he pulls Eliott down with intent, driving his own hips up to meet the movement, grinding them together.

Eliott breaks away from his mouth with a groan he smothers in the skin of Lucas’s neck, pressing his lips there. “Lucas.” There’s a question present in his voice now.

“Yes,” Lucas responds in a gasp. He presses his lips to the side of Eliott’s head.

Eliott raises his head, immediately pressing their foreheads together. “Lucas,” he breathes heavily, licking his lips before continuing, eyes open and staring down at Lucas who stares back, vision blurred by proximity, “what is – what do you want?”

Lucas tilts his mouth up, just once, a quick peck to Eliott’s mouth before he drops back down. He fumbles reaching down to his pocket. His pants are slightly twisted and, in his attempt to shift enough to get a hand inside his pocket, he unintentionally rubs against Eliott, pressing their clothed erections together in a movement that is nowhere near enough to satisfy. Eliott groans, one hand going to Lucas’s hip to hold him in place as he drives down with more purpose. “Lucas. _Fuck_.”

“God. _God,_ ” Lucas moans, distracted entirely from his purpose, hand returning to Eliott’s ass to pull him deeper. “Eliott.” He gasps desperately for breath. “You have to – _ungh_ –” Another rough thrust of Eliott’s hips has his own responding by instinct. “You can’t keep swearing like that,” Lucas manages, moving to bite at Eliott’s lower lip. “I’m going to fucking come in my pants if – ungh, _fuck_ – if you keep that up.”

Eliott chuckles, a deep rumble that vibrates through both their bodies, doing absolutely nothing for Lucas’s self control. “I knew it got to you.” He smirks.

“Oh yeah?” Lucas puffs, hips twitching up against Eliott’s which have frustratingly paused their movements. “What gave it away? The boner I got every time you said – said it?”

“Said _it_?” Eliott grins. He leans down to brush his lips against Lucas’s as he speaks in a quiet whisper. “Said what? _Fuck_? Is that it? Makes you hard to hear it? Me wanting it? To _fuck.”_

Lucas tries to look unimpressed. Truly he does. Only… Eliott isn’t wrong and Lucas really brought this on himself. But two can play this game. “Yes,” he breathes, blinking slowly up at Eliott. “Can’t you feel it?” He presses his hips up once more, gently this time, letting Eliott feel how hard he is. “How hard you make me? I want it Eliott. I fucking want _you_.”

A shudder runs through Eliott’s body and he swallows deeply, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. “Lucas…”

But Lucas is determined this time and it he gets a hand into his pocket. Pulling the contents out he presses them to his own chest, leaving them there, and butting his head against Eliott in a suggestion for him to back up and notice Lucas’s actions. Eliott does so, pressing up on his arms enough that he notices the additions displayed on Lucas’s bare chest. He freezes, mouth parting and hand reaching for the condom and lube.

“Lucas… what…”

“For you. I want it,” Lucas assures.

Eliott stares down at him for a moment, pulling his lower lips into his mouth. Lucas lets him take in his fill, laying relaxed and confident beneath Eliott. He nods, just slightly, a smile breaking across his face, teeth peeking through.

“Ok.” Only he’s sitting up and away from Lucas. “Come on.”

“What?” Lucas sputters. “No. Not go.” Ok… real sentences now, Lucas. “I mean. No. Here. Now. I want it now, Eliott.”

“Lucas,” Eliott huffs, looking amused, “I’m not going to have the first time I’m inside you be on an uncomfortable couch where anyone could find us.”

Lucas snorts. “The first time I was inside you was on an uncomfortable fucking pool lounger where anyone could walk in on us.”

“No. But I planned that. It’s what I wanted,” Eliott insists, brows pulled together.

“And this is what I want.” Lucas pouts. The fact that he has to work to convince Eliott right now…

“Lucas,” Eliott expels an amused breath and leans down briefly to kiss his pouting lips, “please let me make it special,” he whispers, hand going to Lucas’s hair and running through the strands gently. “Let’s go to my bedroom.”

“Your room?” That doesn’t sound terrible. A bigger more comfortable bed _would_ be more convenient. But… “Where Brian can watch?!”

Eliott snorts a laugh. “Shut up! Don’t make it weird.”

Lucas grins. He has to take advantage of the opportunity to tease. “Pretty sure Brian’s gonna be the one making it weird.”

“Stop!” Eliott laughs, pulling at his hair in warning. He presses a gentle kiss to Lucas’s lips, letting it linger for a moment before pulling back. “Please, Lucas? I want it to be… I just want it to be perfect.” Sincerity infuses his tone and Lucas brims full with feeling.

Lucas licks his lips and speaks the thought flooding his mouth, speaks it without overthinking, without second-guessing, with total and utter surety. “It doesn’t need to be perfect. I don’t want perfect. I just want you.” The words once out sound terrifying. The risk taken by speaking them sends fear crawling down Lucas’s back in an icy trail. Eliott’s mouth has dropped open and his hand has frozen its gentle movements. Lucas can’t read his face, his own vision of it blotted out by anxiety. “Sorry,” he continues, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean–”

“I want you too,” Eliott rushes to interrupt him, hand moving to Lucas’s cheek holding tightly. “I only want you.” The words send a wave of relief rushing through Lucas.

He expels a breath, relaxing back into the cushions of the couch, every muscle having tensed involuntarily. “Me too,” he whispers, voice fragile. He swallows, projecting his voice more clearly. “I – me too.” It’s all he can manage but it’s enough for Eliott who’s face bursts into an enormous smile. He drops down, kissing Lucas fiercely.

“Lucas,” Eliott groans between kisses. “Lucas, Lucas.” He won’t stop kissing Lucas long enough to easily express himself and it makes Lucas smile into their kiss. “I just,” a smacking kiss, “I want everything.” Another longer, lingering press of lips, both of them smiling too hard for it to last. “I want everything with you.”

God. _God._ Lucas needs him. Now.

“Eliott,” he pushes Eliott up by the shoulders, “we can go back to your room. But,” he bites his lip, “can we…” Lucas couldn’t explain why the words are so hard. He’s never had a problem asking for what he wants before. But then… everything feels different with Eliott.

“What?” Eliott gentles, leaning down slightly to rub their noses together before rising up to smile at Lucas. “Anything you want.”

“You could…” Lucas blinks up at Eliott, feeling entirely stripped of any pretenses. “You could prep me here?”

Eliott doesn’t look at all shocked by the request, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “You want my fingers?” God, he looks so…

“Don’t get cocky on me now, Princeling,” Lucas scoffs in indignation, the teasing relaxing him. “We just might as well.” He shrugs a little.

“Oh yes,” Eliott smiles softly, amused. “Might as well. I mean… since we’re here.”

“Exactly.” Lucas nods, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I personally wasn’t looking forward to walking through a room full of hundreds of the most uptight people in France with a raging boner.”

“Oh.” Eliott’s smile grows, his eyes crinkling with it. “So not just fingers, you’re expecting an orgasm out of this, are you?”

Lucas rolls his eyes. “You put your fingers in me and it doesn’t result in an orgasm… I’m just saying, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Eliott barks out a laugh. “Well I appreciate the heads up.”

“Being clear about expectations is important to a sexual relationship, you know.”

“Oh yeah? And what are your expectations?”

“Life-changing.”

“So not just prepping you, not just an orgasm, the expectation is for me to change your life? And if I don’t?”

“Asses get kicked.”

“Fair,” Eliott snickers. He sits up looking thoroughly delighted, and nods down to Lucas. “Pants off then.”

Eliott takes the lube, tucking the condom away in his pocket while Lucas reaches for his own pants, quickly, if a bit awkwardly ridding himself of them as he lays on the couch. “I’d ask you to help,” Lucas huffs looking up at Eliott where he sits back on his heels, eyes a little glazed as he watches Lucas’s every motion, “but a guy who can’t get out of his own pants isn’t likely to be any help with mine.”

“Hey!” Eliott protests with a pout. “I was drunk. Besides,” a small smile appears on his face, “maybe I just wanted you to do it.”

Lucas kicks his pants and briefs off where they’re caught on his foot. “Knew it,” Lucas says with a knowing grin. “Didn’t have you pegged for a horny drunk though.”

“I’m not.”

“No?”

“No,” Eliott shakes his head with a smile, eyes dropping to where Lucas’s erection juts from his body, hard and aching. “Just with you.” His hand moves to Lucas’s cock, grasping it firmly at the base and he leans down without any hesitation, swallowing Lucas in the heat of his mouth.

“Eli–” Lucas breaks off with a choked gasp, hand immediately flying to Eliott’s head, clutching in the soft strands.

Eliott sucks him for only a teasing, excruciatingly short moment before pulling off, fumbling with the lube. Lucas pulls his knees up and towards him, spreading his legs and opening himself to Eliott.

“God,” Eliott sighs, gliding a hand up the back of Lucas’s thigh, pressing him open even further. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

Lucas can feel his cheeks heat at the compliment, and he scoffs a little, rolling his eyes to deflect from his reaction. “Enough sweet talk. Get to the action.”

Eliott’s eyebrow rises with his smirk. “You really going to act like the sweet talk doesn’t get to you?” His hand slides back down Lucas’s thigh, his thumb leading until he finds Lucas’s hole, pressing against it gently as a shiver courses through Lucas’s body. His other hand holds the lube and he brings the packet to his mouth, ripping it open with his teeth. He pulls away the hand on Lucas to coat a finger.

“Fuck,” Lucas groans, tipping his head back against the cushion and closing his eyes to the assaulting sight. “You are so fucking hot sometimes, I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?” Eliott asks, smile present in his voice… though it’s more than likely a smirk. Lucas knows that tone. A slick finger presses to Lucas, and then Eliott’s mouth is back, gliding along the side of his erection.

Lucas can’t help but open his eyes, tilting his head down to watch, knowing the sight of Eliott there will rid him of all stamina he would like to say he has but… it’s worth it. His hand gravitates back to Eliott’s hair, petting at the strands as Eliott moves to suckling the head of Lucas’s erection, finger pressing into his body. Lucas grunts at the intrusion, breath heavy as he concentrates on relaxing the muscles and letting Eliott in. “You’re a fucking fairy-tale Prince,” Lucas groans, struggling to keep his eyes on Eliott and not give in entirely to the sensations as Eliott’s finger moves inside him. “Perfect fucking hair. Perfect fucking eyes… lips… voice. _God_.” He struggles for breath as Eliott presses in a second finger, mouth sinking more deeply on his cock, his eyes shut in concentration. “You’re so fucking… God… fucking fairy-tale,” Lucas gasps out nonsensically. “Perfect fucking Prince. Perfect hands,” Lucas can’t stop staring at the hand encircling the base of his cock, delicate pale fingers wrapped around the width of him, ring glinting in the warm light, fingers of his other hand moving inside Lucas, stretching him with intent. “Perfect cock,” Lucas sighs blissfully.

Eliott splutters around him, pulling off his erection with a cough before he starts laughing. Lucas looks at him curiously, smiling despite himself, the humour on Eliott’s face contagious. “What?” He asks with a slight laugh.

Eliott grins at him, pulling his fingers from Lucas to coat them with more lube. Lucas can’t help the sound he makes at the loss and with a quirk of his eyebrow Eliott returns with three fingers. Lucas inhales sharply as they press into him, eyes shutting briefly as he focuses on the stretch. “Not sure that’s a Disney pre-requisite,” Eliott comments drawing Lucas’s eyes back to him, the only obvious tell he’s affected by what they’re doing, the way his voice has gone deep and husky with want.

“What?” Lucas asks confused, chest rising and falling rapidly as he does his best to concentrate on the conversation and not the way Eliott’s fingers press into him fully now, stretching, curling and searching.

“A perfect cock,” Eliott explains with a slight grin, mouth returning to brush against the head of Lucas’s erection. “Pretty sure Disney doesn’t check off ‘perfect cock’ on their list of necessary princely qualities.”

“Yeah well,” Lucas’s entire body is shivering, so much pent-up want he feels as though he’ll explode at any moment, “they should. Don’t know what they’re missing.”

Eliott snickers and sinks his mouth back down on Lucas, working himself on Lucas’s cock in rhythm with his fingers, pressing a little more roughly in and out of Lucas now. Lucas expels a breath of relief, the heat of Eliott’s mouth, the feel of his fingers…

Eliott’s searching fingers find their target, brushing against Lucas’s prostate and sending sensation rushing through Lucas’s so swiftly it whites out his vision. He sucks in a panicked sounding breath, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the cushions beside him as his lower back arches up and off them. His reaction is a dead giveaway and Eliott’s interprets it as such, fingers returning, pressing and massaging the area. His mouth rises to concentrate on the head of Lucas’s cock as his hand strips him ruthlessly. It’s too much for Lucas to maintain any control. He feels his orgasm building, licking up his thighs until it settles in his balls. His abs contract with it and he has no breath to warn Eliott, bursts of white light spark at the sides of his vision and he comes, body arching up off the couch, before sinking back as he shakes apart. The only sound he manages is choked off – a cry of pleasure that’s caught by the enormity of feeling swamping him. It’s as though every muscle in his body has contracted with the force of it, every pleasure center firing. It rolls through him endlessly until it’s too much and he whines pitifully until Eliott releases him, mouth moving up and off him with a ludicrously explicit wet sucking sound, fingers gently pulled from Lucas’s body. When Lucas’s body comes back down it’s with his head still floating somewhere in the clouds. He’s barely able to focus on Eliott, hunched over him and pulling himself from his pants, movements frantic and near violent with his need.

“Eliott,” Lucas rasps. And when Eliott doesn’t seem to have heard him, “Princeling.”

Eliott’s eyes snap up to him, hand with a tight hold around his erection.

Lucas licks his lips, looking up at Eliott through half-lidded eyes. “Come here.” He shifts a little, pulling himself up against the arm of the couch, so his head is propped up slightly. “Fuck my mouth.”

“Luc–” Eliott cuts off with a grunt, hand squeezing tightly to his cock. “God. I won’t last. I’m sorry. I–”

“Good. Come here,” Lucas repeats, dropping his mouth open.

Eliott’s eyes are wide, a frenzied quality to them Lucas hasn’t seen before. He takes a steadying breath before releasing his cock, using his hands to steady him as he crawls above Lucas’s body, erection bobbing as he moves, dripping from the tip onto Lucas’s chest. He doesn’t waste time. The moment he’s within reach he holds himself steady with one hand, the other moving to Lucas’s mouth, thumb pressing down on his lower lip, stretching Lucas’s mouth obscenely. “Oh god,” he croaks and feeds his cock into Lucas’s mouth. Lucas relaxes his jaw and focuses on closing his lips around Eliott in a tight suction, tongue pressed to the underside tracing over the ridged vein he can feel there. “Pinch my thigh if,” Eliott gasps another desperate breath, “if it’s too much.” Lucas blinks up at him in consent. Eliott nods, movement a little jerky. A hand moves to the back of Lucas’s head, holding him steady. He thrusts tentatively at first, testing Lucas’s comfort as Lucas knew he would. He hums in approval. It’s all Eliott needs. He snaps his hips, thrusting into Lucas’s mouth, not too deeply but quickly, a bruising pace. It takes barely a minute before his hand tightens in Lucas’s hair. He buries himself in the wet heat of Lucas’s mouth and comes, curling down and around Lucas’s head as he shoots again and again, releasing animalistic grunts with each contraction of his body. He pulls himself from Lucas’s mouth before he’s done, hand returning to his cock as he strokes out the last of his pleasure, spurting onto Lucas’s lips and chin.

“Holy…” He exhales, shaking above Lucas. “Oh my god.”

Lucas is inclined to agree but unable to find words just yet. He licks his lips, bringing a finger to his mouth to catch the remnants on his chin, sweeping them up to his tongue.

“ _God_ ,” Eliott repeats, watching with wide eyes. He moves back enough to collapse on top of Lucas and pull him into a kiss, licking over Lucas’s lips before pressing his tongue into his mouth. They share the taste of one another, tongues seeking and pressing together. They kiss until their muscles no longer shake but relax into one another. Lucas shivers and Eliott pulls back slightly. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” Lucas assures, his voice more frail than he intended. He clears his throat. “Just a little cold.” It’s not entirely true. Or it is. He’s shivering as the cool air of the room hits his previously overheated skin… but it feels like more than that too. As though even under twenty blankets he’d still be shaking.

“Shoot!” Eliott sits up quickly, handing rubbing up and down Lucas’s arms. “This is why we should be in my bed. Then I could wrap you in all the covers you like to steal.”

Lucas releases a slight laugh. “Asshole. You really going to start complaining? After that?”

“I’m not complaining,” Eliott says with a roll of his eyes. Lucas can barely remember the count… wait. _Fourteen_. No more bad luck thirteen. Good. “I just want you to be comfortable.” He reaches down for Lucas’s clothes, separating them from his own and handing them over as Lucas reluctantly moves to sit up.

“Oh believe me, I’m comfortable,” Lucas smirks. “Best orgasm of my life will do that.”

Eliott’s face jerks back to him. “Best of your life?” A smile splits his face.

“Yes,” Lucas admits with a smile of his own. “Just saying… the second you get that cock of yours in me, he’s gonna have something to prove. That’ll be a hard act to follow.”

Eliott snorts. “Oh, he’s up to the task.” He glances down at himself for a moment. “Or he will be. He’s a little overwhelmed at the moment. Just give him a second.”

Lucas laughs. “He can have it. Mine wouldn’t mind a few minutes to recoup either.” He stands to put his clothes back on and wobbles precariously. Eliott jumps up to put a steadying hand to his shoulder. “Don’t let it go to your head.” Lucas pushes Eliott’s hand off with a grin. “Just a little head rush that’s all.”

“Sure.” Eliott grins, pleased and turns to put his own clothes back on.

Both of them mostly dressed, Eliott turns to Lucas with an easy smile. “God,” Lucas laughs. “The way you look… how the fuck are we going to pull this off?” He pulls a hand through his hair. With the way Eliott looks, Lucas can’t imagine he’s looking any better.

“What?” Eliott asks with a cheeky smile. “I think you look great.”

“Yeah,” Lucas snorts. “If I look anything like you, what I look is _fucked_ … thoroughly and completely.”

“Mmhmm,” Eliott confirms with a nod. “Like I said, you look great.”

“Idiot,” Lucas laughs, pushing Eliott with both hands on his shoulders. Eliott takes advantage and grabs Lucas’s wrists before he’s able to retreat, pulling him close, one arm wrapping around his back as Eliott draws him into a kiss. It’s a gentle, sweet kiss, chaste in comparison to their previous actions.

Eliott moves his head back slightly to speak. “I’m not going to ever get used to it. I hope you’re prepared.”

“What?” Lucas asks a little confused, his own eyes on Eliott’s lips.

“Kissing you.” Eliott moves forward again to do just that, a quick press of lips, arms tight around Lucas’s back. “I’m going to kiss you all the time. Every day. Every minute. I’m not going to stop.”

Lucas can’t help the smile that spreads across his face, so endeared by the adorable, ridiculous Prince standing before him. “I’m not against the idea but it might be a little difficult to keep this quiet with you glued to my face.”

“I don’t want to keep this quiet,” Eliott says, smiling dropping and brows furrowing. “Do you?”

Lucas shrugs, eyes dropping to his hands on Eliott’s shirt collar, fiddling with the stiff material. “You’re the Prince and I’m… me. Your mom hates me and happens to be the Queen. I’m not exactly the future she’s planned for you.” It feels weird to speak the beginnings of his deepest fears. But as he unburdens himself, if only slightly, he finds he wants to do so more. To be completely honest with Eliott. About everything.

“I will not live my life according to my mother’s expectations or wishes. And you – you believe I can do it, don’t you?” Eliott’s voice wavers with uncertainty.

“I do,” Lucas assures, eyes going back to Eliott’s. He brings up a hand to smooth through the now-wild strands of Eliott’s hair in comfort. “You’ll write your own future. If it’s what you want. You’re more than strong enough.”

Eliott smiles, relief clear in his eyes. “It’s what I want.”

They stare at one another, pressed tightly together in the darkened, stillness of the library, once the setting for the worst memory of Lucas’s life, now the setting for one of the best.

“Let’s get out of here,” Eliott squeezes his arms around Lucas before releasing and stepping back, hand sliding down Lucas’s arm to weave their hands together. “My bed awaits. We can talk more there.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees, squeezing Eliott’s hand within his own. “That sounds good.”

* * * *

Eliott doesn’t release his hand. Not even when they leave the library and enter the hallway, moving back towards the main foyer. It’s Lucas who pulls away. Eliott turns back to him, face marked by unhappiness, reaching once more for Lucas’s hand stubbornly. It makes Lucas snort.

“Princeling,” he smacks away the searching hand, “we can’t walk through the fucking Ball, holding hands looking like we’ve just fucked in the library, ok?”

Eliott pouts but doesn’t disagree. “What are you suggesting then?”

“We split up. You go ahead. I’ll find Chloe – she’s working tonight.” At Eliott’s raised eyebrow, Lucas explains. “I can’t just be moseying to the second floor, towards the Prince’s room with a billion people milling about in the foyer. There’s a back way to the second floor, isn’t there?” Eliott nods reluctantly. “Chloe will know it.”

Eliott lips are still pursed with unhappiness. “But we can walk to the foyer together. I’ll make one last appearance. Then I’ll just leave and go up first. I just – I want to walk in with you.”

 _The adorable bastard_. Lucas sighs, nodding his head with a smile. “Yeah, but,” he bats Eliott’s hand away where he had once again reached for Lucas’s, “hands to yourself, Princeling. Christ. Get it together.”

“I can’t help it,” Eliott whines, spreading his hands and looking down at them as though appendages totally separate from himself. “They have minds of their own.”

“Ok, you idiot,” Lucas snorts. “Let’s go.” He bumps his shoulder into Eliott and with a grin continues down the hall. Eliott turns and hurries to catch up, brushing his hand against the back of Lucas’s with every step. They steal looks at one another as they go, like giddy school children with a first crush, and Lucas is just thankful no one is here to see them act like such besotted idiots. That is… until they turn the corner and the foyer is within sight.

There are two people walking towards them. Lucas recognizes the Queen immediately and by the trip in Eliott’s step, he does too. Lucas doesn’t take his eyes off her and as a result doesn’t recognize who she’s walking with until it’s too late.

“Son,” his father says, coming to a stop in front of where Lucas has frozen.

“Son?” Eliott asks quietly from beside him.

Lucas’s brain is pure static, shock ridding him of words, panic keeping him still.

“Eliott,” the Queen speaks, voice falsely warm.

“Mother, what’s going on?” Eliott moves closer to Lucas, hand coming to rest against Lucas’s back, clearly sensing his anxiety.

“My apologies, Your Royal Highness,” Lucas’s father looks to Eliott. “I didn’t introduce myself. I am Alexandre Anjou. I must say, you look a lot different from when we last spoke.” He laughs and the sound has bile rising in Lucas’s throat. “But then you were barely sixteen.”

“What? I–” Eliott stutters confused.

“What are you doing here?” Lucas asks, somehow finding his voice.

“Come now. Don’t use that tone. I should think you’d be happy to see me, son.” There’s a smug quality to his voice.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why? It’s what you are. However hard you deny it.”

“Mother, what have you done?” Eliott asks viciously, eyes going to his mother.

“Eliott,” His mother sighs impatiently, “Lucas has not been forthcoming with you about a number of things. I can no longer allow that to pass.”

“Please don’t do this,” Lucas croaks. Emotion wells at the back of his throat.

“I gave you every opportunity, every warning. To tell Eliott or to step away with dignity. You did neither. You curated this situation, not me. Do you think I like debasing myself with such dramatics? You’ve given me no choice.” Her eyes are cold, her words poisonous.

“What is between Lucas and I is between the two of us alone. Your behaviour towards him has been reprehensible.” Eliott shifts a shoulder slightly in front of Lucas as he speaks to his mother.

“What is between you and Lucas has not been between the two of you since you were children,” she snaps.

“What are you talking about? Lucas and I didn’t know one another as children!” Eliott’s voice rises in agitation and Lucas can feel his own breath halt.

“Lucas,” his father breaks in, “you need to walk away. I have tolerated your rebellion long enough. You associate with persons of ill repute. Living on the streets the way you do. We are a Noble family. You come from money. _Power_. Influence. And yet you choose your mother’s name? You slum with the filth of our city. You shame our family with your behaviour.”

“Stop it. Don’t speak to him like that.” Eliott turns to Lucas’s father, still positioned as though to block Lucas from their venom.

“I shame our family? Me?!” Lucas moves around Eliott, spitting his words across the space he leaves separating himself from his father. “You should be shamed to call yourself a father. To call yourself a man! You’re a piece of shit!”

His father steps forward, hand rising slightly, just enough for Lucas to notice, before he thinks better of it and drops it to his side in a closed fist.

“You will not speak to me like that in front of the Queen. You will not speak that way in front of the Queen at all. You are embarrassing me, and you are embarrassing yourself.”

“Enough!” Eliott yells, reaching for Lucas and jerking him back to his side. “You have no right to treat him like this. I don’t care if Lucas comes from your family. I don’t care if he has money. None of that matters to me.”

“Eliott, don’t be so goddamn naïve,” his mother sighs bitterly. “You can’t honestly believe what you have is genuine. He’s been playing you from the moment he got here.”

“That’s not true,” Lucas’s words choke in his throat.

“Lucas, enough,” his father’s hand cuts through the air in front of him. “You expect any of us to believe you made your way from the streets to the Palace just by chance? By good fortune?”

“I did,” his voice cracks miserably, but he tries again. “I did. That’s what happened.”

“Please! You used your connections to assure you a place here. You jeopardized the employment of people you call your friends to secure you a position.” He shakes his head, haughty and judgmental.

Lucas can’t speak. Doesn’t know how to defend himself in this. Eliott does it for him. “His friends speaking for him – Yann speaking for him doesn’t mean a thing. There is nothing wrong with that. Lucas is good at his job.”

“Yes. I bet he is.” His father laughs cruelly. “I taught him everything he knows about cars, did you know?”

“Not everything. Lucas is brilliant at his job. It takes a lifetime of experience to get that good. From what I understand he ran from you as a child.” Eliott bristles protectively and it somehow makes everything that much worse. That Eliott believes in him so ardently he would face-off with his own mother and Lucas’s asshole father to defend him.

“He ran at the age of thirteen and it wasn’t me he was running from. It was the consequences of his actions. It was himself. The disgusting part of himself he’d allowed to take grip.” The words of his father cut deep.

“No. It was you. I ran from you.” No matter how sure he is of this fact his voice refuses to come out with any confidence, embarrassingly weak.

“You’ve been playing a long con job on him ever since, haven’t you? My god, Lucas. You are dealing with the Royal Family. How did you see this ending?” It’s not surprising that his father thinks so little of him. That’s not the part that hurts. The part that hurts is the waver in Eliott’s voice in response.

“A con job? I don’t understand.”

“It’s not – I wasn’t,” Lucas tries desperately. “Please, Eliott, let’s go. I’ll explain everything.” Eliott nods, hand returning to Lucas’s back and rubbing against it in comfort. He pulls Lucas slightly towards him in suggestion they leave.

“We’re far past that point, young man.” The Queen steps forward to block their exit.

“Mother get out of the way. I am done listening to your lies. To _his_ lies. I want nothing to do with either of you.” Eliott’s voice is cold and controlled. His grip tightens on Lucas’s back.

“Eliott, he took advantage of your vulnerable state at fifteen. I ripped you away then and I will not hesitate to do it again. Everything I do is to protect you. Please understand that. He is preying on your trusting nature. If any other reality were true, he would have been honest with you. I gave him that chance. He didn’t take it.” The world freezes around them. Lucas can’t tell if he’s even breathing. Total silence has fallen and then…

“Fifteen.” Eliott’s voice is soft. His eyes move to Lucas’s. There’s dawning awareness in them. “You ran from your father at thirteen?”

“Eliott…” Lucas can barely get words out. It feels like someone has a vice-like grip around his neck.

“Tell me it’s not true. What I’m thinking. It’s not true. You wouldn’t. You wouldn’t let me speak about him like that… tell you those things, if it had been you. If – if you knew. You wouldn’t do that.” There’s a pleading desperation to his voice. His hand falls away from Lucas and the intensity in his eyes begs Lucas to disagree.

But Lucas can’t. “I can explain…” His voice cracks.

“We found you two together as children in the library. You were in a terrible state, Eliott. That night left you devastated for weeks on end. You didn’t know what you were doing. Lucas did. He knew exactly what he was doing. He took advantage of you.” Her voice wraps around them, venomous and cruel.

“I was thirteen! I was a child!” Lucas turns his fury on her.

“Which is why I left you to your father’s handling.” She calms her tone in reply to his anger, appearing rational and honest in the face of Lucas’s emotion. And yet he can’t control it. _Everything_ is suddenly out of his control. “Imagine my surprise to learn so many years later that you’d found your way back to our doorstep. To my son’s bed. To destroy him again.”

“That’s not – that’s not what happened. That’s not how any of this happened. That’s not what I’m doing. Eliott…” Lucas turns desperately to Eliott, reaching for his forearm with his plea.

Eliott shakes off his grip. “Please don’t.”

“Eliott…” Lucas stomach drops. No. _No._

“I just…” Eliott will no longer meet his eyes. “I can’t think. I need to think.” He turns away.

“No. Please.” Lucas reaches for him again, stopping himself just before touching. He just… Lucas can’t let him go. If he goes, he’s lost. Lucas knows. He feels it. He’s losing him.

“Please don’t follow me.”

“Eliott.” His mother reaches for his arm as he goes to pass.

Eliott wrenches his arm from her grasp. “Don’t touch me,” his voice breaks obviously. His head turns slightly as though to look back towards Lucas, before turning away entirely, walking down the hallway, disappearing into the crowds of the foyer. Lucas doesn’t take his eyes off him until he’s obscured completely, disappearing in the masses.

“As you wish.” It’s barely a whisper. A sentiment that will find no one’s ear, least of all Eliott’s. Lucas says it anyways. It floats in the air before him, meaningless and ephemeral without finding a home in Eliott. Until it dissipates along with everything Lucas had hoped, all he’d begun to imagine.

Eliott’s gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...  
> ....  
> .....  
> ......  
> .......  
> ........  
> 
> 
> A couple notes:  
> \- Rebel anon I thought of you while editing the end of this chapter and if you read that first... well that's your own fault now isn't it? lol  
> \- Marti & Nico's text translation:  
> Marti: I miss you  
> Nico: Me too  
> I love you  
> (Also: Thank you to isabellaheathcliff for the help with the Italian - Nico and Marti's texts have been slightly corrected as a result). 
> 
> My tumblr: surrealsunday  
> Next chapter next weekend (I'm trying to space things out properly so there are no long waits but yes, feel free to yell at me about this wait).


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING** : This chapter contains physical abuse by a parent as well as homophobia. If you are concerned that this will be a problem for you, please feel free to message me on tumblr (@surrealsunday) and I can discuss those scenes with you.
> 
> Additionally, this is really bad timing considering what skam france just put out there today and I sincerely apologize for that. It was just a really badly timed coincidence.

“I’ll leave you to handle this,” the Queen nods at Lucas’s father before looking one last time at Lucas. “I think it goes without saying, I do not wish to see you ever again.” She leaves them standing alone in the hallway.

Lucas feels cracked down his very center. It feels like hours have passed since he was filled to the brim with feeling, with joy. It has all leaked from him now, leaving him hollow and fragile. A broken shell.

“You will leave with me. We will discuss how to rectify this situation. Perhaps the damage you have done to our reputation is not irreparable.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“What did you say to me?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Lucas shouts. Tears collect in his eyes and obstruct his vision. “I hate you. I fucking hate you! I’ve always hated you. She hated you too! She still does. Getting away from you was the best thing that ever happened to us! I’d rather die than go anywhere with you.”

Lucas sees him raise his hand. He has ample time to block it. He doesn’t. He welcomes the blow. His father has always hit hard. Time hasn’t changed that fact. He hits Lucas across the face with a brutal back hand, the sharp edge of his ring scraping across Lucas’s cheekbone, ripping through the skin. Lucas doesn’t resist the blow, letting it send him to his knees on the carpeted hallway floor. His father grabs for the collar of his shirt, pulling his face back up and raising a threatening fist.

“If you think for one moment, I will allow you to continue to speak to me that way you are dead wrong. You will learn to respect me!”

“Respect what? You’re nothing. Couldn’t hold on to your son. Couldn’t hold on to your wife. You’re pathetic.” He braces himself for the next blow. A fist will hurt more.

It never makes impact. Lucas falls forward as his father is wrenched away from him. Lucas looks up to see Idriss slamming him against the wall. Idriss has one arm pressed across Lucas’s father’s chest and his face is pure fury. Lucas’s father is a large man, but he’s dwarfed by Idriss’s size.

“You don’t understand,” his father gasps, breath restricted by Idriss’s brutal hold, “he’s my son.”

“I don’t care who Lucas is to you,” Idriss spits. “You hit him. You’re gone.” He taps an earpiece. “Theo. West hallway. Now.”

Lucas’s father struggles in Idriss’s hold, but Idriss doesn’t budge. He doesn’t look away from Lucas’s father’s face. Lucas stays collapsed on the floor; he doesn’t think he could find the strength to stand if he tried. He can feel blood trickling down his cheek and wipes at it unconcerned.

It’s barely half a minute before Theo appears at Idriss’s side. Idriss releases his hold on Lucas’s father, who slumps forward, grabbing his chest in exaggerated pain.

“Escort him off the property,” Idriss commands.

“You can’t,” Lucas’s father protests but seeing the look on Idriss’s face decides to change tactics. “Talk to the Queen. She will explain what is going on. I’m well within my rights and Lucas is to come with me.”

Idriss ignores him. He turns to Theo, keeping a tight grip on Lucas’s father’s arm. “The back exit. Do it quietly. Ensure he does not return.”

“Do you know who I am?!”

Theo doesn’t acknowledge Lucas’s father’s sputtering either, taking his arm roughly from Idriss and dragging him down the hall as he continues to protest, into the depths of the Palace and towards the back exits.

Idriss falls to his knees in front of Lucas. His hand comes up to hold Lucas’s chin, tipping his face up and to the side as he examines his cheek. “Fuck, Lucas. You could have kicked his ass! Why’d you let him do this?” His eyes move to meet Lucas’s gaze. His hand drops away and his expression softens. “Hey, can you stand?”

“I don’t–” Lucas’s voice breaks and Idriss’s hand comes up to rest on the side of his neck. Lucas tries again. “I don’t know.”

“Ok,” Idriss nods, voice soft but clear. “I’m going to help you up, alright?” Lucas nods. Idriss’s arm comes to wrap around Lucas’s back and he stands, lifting Lucas’s body weight as though Lucas weighed no more than a feather. He holds Lucas to his side until he feels confident Lucas can carry his own weight, releasing him and stepping back to look into his eyes once more. “Lucas, what is going on?”

“Eliott,” Lucas chokes out. He blinks back tears desperately. He needs to be in control. He needs to explain. He has to make this right with Eliott. He _has_ to. He can’t – there can’t be an alternative. He needs to fix it. “I have to – I need to talk to him.” He moves to pass Idriss, but Idriss blocks him with an arm stretched in front of him.

“Lucas,” he moves to stand in front of him again, “you need to go take care of that cut on your face.”

“I don’t care.” Lucas shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care who sees me. I don’t care. I need to see him. I need to explain.”

“Listen, I don’t know what happened with you two, Lucas,” Idriss sighs, looking away for a moment uncomfortably, “but I saw Eliott, ok? He asked me to come make sure you were alright.” Hope sparks in Lucas’s chest. Eliott wanted to make sure he was ok. Eliott still cares. “And he made me promise not to let you come find him.” It’s extinguished in a flood of freezing cold encasing his organs.

“Idriss,” Lucas tries, swallowing and trying to control his breathing, “I messed up.”

“Hey,” Idriss bounces a finger under his chin to tip it back up, “Eliott is crazy about you. It’ll be ok. You just need to give him a little time, alright? Give him the night.”

Lucas nods miserably. The longer he gives Eliott, the more time Eliott will have to reconsider everything he knows about Lucas… to question everything Lucas said… everything he _didn’t_ say. And he’ll realize Lucas is too much trouble. That he brings too much trouble. That it’s not worth it.

“Go put some ice on your face and get some sleep. Things will look up in the morning, ok?” Idriss smiles kindly. “Take the back hall. It’ll connect through the kitchen to your hall, yeah?”

Lucas keeps his eyes on the ground and turns to do as told.

“And hey, Lucas?” Idriss calls after him. Lucas doesn’t turn back, just stops in place to acknowledge he’s listening. “Text me if you need anything, ok? Anything.” Lucas nods and continues on his way, down the dimmed hallway. His breath comes short as he reaches the door to the library and as he passes it, he lets the tears come. No longer fighting them back, they run down his face. Mixing with the streaks of blood left, they drip red onto the crisp white of his shirt. He doesn’t bother to prevent it.

He thankfully doesn’t see anyone on the journey back to his room. When he enters, he makes sure to lock the door behind him. He strips quickly, pulling the clothing from himself violently, the restrictive material suddenly suffocating. Stripped to his briefs, he curls up on top of the comforter, pulling his knees up and to his chest he wraps his arms around them, squeezing his eyes shut. He concentrates on breathing, focusing on one breath in, one breath out. The cool air of his bedroom wraps around him, licking at his skin and he shivers with it. He doesn’t sleep.

* * * *

**(11 Years Ago)**

He didn’t want to come. He told his father a million times that he didn’t want to come. But like always his dad didn’t give a crap. His mom wasn’t feeling well. She’d cried and begged Lucas to stay with her. And his – his _asshole_ dad had dragged him out the door. They’d just left his mom there, crying on the kitchen floor. His dad never cared. He didn’t care that Lucas’s mom needed him there. She always felt better when Lucas was around. She never cried as long as he promised to hold her. Instead he has to come to this _stupid_ party at the Palace. He hates it. He hates the fancy clothes and the way he has to comb back his hair. He hates the way his dad pretends to be someone he’s not. He hates the way he keeps a hand tight to Lucas’s shoulder, speaking about him as though he’s not there.

The only thing that had ever made these parties kind of ok is the Prince. Eliott. The first time Lucas saw him, Lucas was ten years old. It was the first year he’d been allowed to come with his parents. Eliott had been twelve. And he was just… _so cool_. When Lucas’s dad had smacked the back of Lucas’s head and told him to straighten up, Eliott had looked _right at_ Lucas. He’d smiled and rolled his eyes, like he thought the adults were stupid too! They were introduced but Eliott was busy with his friends and well… Lucas wasn’t like them. They were all funny and loud and everyone knew they were cool. Lucas was shy. He hated it. He wanted to be able to make jokes and have Eliott look at him the way he looked at the other boys. His friends. He wanted to be one of them. He just… wasn’t. After that first party, Lucas didn’t really see him. Only a few more times. And then Eliott was away at boarding school and not usually at the parties Lucas was dragged to. Lucas heard Eliott had a _girlfriend_. He hoped she was really ugly. And anyways it’s been years since Lucas has seen him and the parties weren’t any fun anymore. He didn’t like these people. They were rude to him. Or… maybe not rude. You have to pay attention to someone to be rude to them, don’t you? It was like Lucas didn’t exist to anybody. He was invisible. He wasn’t worth noticing.

The moment his father sees people he knows, he deserts Lucas, leaving him by himself in the ballroom. Lucas shuffles uncomfortably, eyes falling to his feet. His dad always yells at him about his posture, saying he collapses his shoulders and it makes him look smaller than he is, unimportant. He says Lucas needs to look up, hold his head high… act in ‘manner befitting our status’. Lucas slumps his shoulders further but looks up to scan the room. He finds a table with food and makes his way over quickly. This is a pretty good part of the parties, he supposes. They always have amazing food. They have these pretty little meringues and Lucas swears they’re the best thing he’s ever tasted. He searches the table for them and finds them on the far end and makes his way down, slipping behind various people standing about the area. No one glances at him or pays him any mind. At least being invisible means he can eat as many as he wants and no one will stop him. He just needs to make sure his dad doesn’t see him. His dad got really mad last time he found Lucas with a plate of treats. He’d said Lucas only chose the ‘frilly boy’ treats and it was an embarrassment. Lucas wasn’t totally sure what his dad considered a ‘frilly boy’ treat so it was best just not to get caught eating around him at all.

Lucas smiles as he reaches the meringues, checking out the selection before reaching for a pretty blue one and popping it into his mouth all at once. He closes his eyes blissfully as it melts on his tongue. It’s just as good as he remembered, and he chews savoring every burst of flavour. He opens his eyes to select another, only there are eyes staring back. They’re from across the room and they pierce into him. Lucas’s mouth drops open as he realizes who it is. It’s the Prince. It’s Eliott! Oh god. He’s beautiful. Was he always that beautiful? Lucas feels a bit betrayed by his memory. He doesn’t remember Eliott looking like _that_. And he’s looking at Lucas? No. He can’t be. Lucas turns a little to look over his shoulder, looking around himself while he’s at it. There’s no one anywhere near him. He looks back and Eliott’s eyes are still on him, a crooked smile growing on his face now. Lucas blushes immediately. He can feel the heat overtaking his face and he pulls his lower lip into his mouth, dropping his eyes to his hands. He takes a deep breath. Just… _be cool, Lucas_. For once. Just act cool. Smile. Show him he can come talk to you. Newly determined, Lucas looks back up with a small smile. Only there are people blocking his view now. He can’t see Eliott. He moves a little down the table, looking to where he thinks Eliott was standing but… no Eliott. Lucas lets the disappointment sink into him. Eliott probably wasn’t even looking at him. It’s pretty dark in the ballroom and… his eyes were probably just playing tricks on him. No way Eliott looked at him like that. Lucas looks back towards the meringues, but he doesn’t feel like them anymore.

He just wants to leave. Why did his dad have to bring him when he wasn’t going to pay attention to Lucas the whole night anyways? Lucas turns and slinks down the table, moving across the ballroom and out into the main space. It’s crowded and he finds it hard to make his way across the foyer. Nobody is particularly willing to move for him. He presses through stubbornly until he finds himself on the other side where it’s less crowded and he can breathe again. He finds a spot to rest up against the wall. His dad won’t find him here. He’ll be in the main ballroom. And this way he won’t have a chance to yell at Lucas for not ‘socializing’. His dad is determined Lucas become someone he’s not; someone confident, someone who can enter a room and be the center of attention… someone people want to talk to… someone they find interesting and want to be friends with. Lucas just isn’t like that. People don’t like him like that.

He tips his head back, pressing his hands against the wall behind him with a sigh, when suddenly a hand his grabbing his arm. Lucas’s eyes pop open as he’s pulled sideways and then back into an empty hall. He gasps in surprise, stumbling over his own feet. When he comes to a stop it’s with Eliott beaming at him. Lucas’s jaw drops.

“I got these for you.” Eliott opens an outstretched hand, revealing meringues, sticky and crushed from their handling. Lucas stares. “Don’t you want them?” Eliott brings his hand back towards himself and bends down, sticking his tongue out to catch one he pulls it back into his mouth, munching on it with a happy sound. He stretches his arm back to Lucas. “Here.”

Lucas reaches out to take them. He doesn’t want to be rude. Eliott got them for him. _Eliott got them for him._ Lucas feels like he’s fallen into some sort of dream. This can’t really be happening. He takes the three remaining meringues. They don’t look very appetizing in their current state but at Eliott’s expectant face, Lucas pops one into his mouth smiling just a little. “Thank you.”

“Come on.” Eliott reaches for Lucas’s hand holding the meringues, crushing them further as he grabs it and pulls Lucas behind him.

Lucas doesn’t know what to do but follow. Eliott is touching him. He’s holding his hand! And sure, it’s with sticky meringues melting between their palms but Lucas thinks it’s perfect.

“Where are we going?” He manages to ask, proud of himself for finding his voice at all. They pass a guard who watches them carefully but doesn’t stop them.

“You’ll see,” Eliott grins back at him. He’s buzzing with energy, it vibrates around him, spreading out until it infects Lucas with a giddy sort of excitement too. Eliott leads the way down the hall. He’s much taller than Lucas and his hair sticks up from his head in a wild mess making him seem even taller. Lucas knows this feeling in his stomach. It’s the reason his dad makes him work on the cars and said he couldn’t spend time with his friend Leo anymore after he’d found them wrestling together in Lucas’s room. Lucas doesn’t even like Leo like… _that_. Leo is funny and makes him laugh but… he doesn’t make his stomach swoop the way it is right now as he stares at Eliott’s back. He’s not supposed to feel this way. He knows. His dad says he should be looking at girls. He’s thirteen and he should be trying to get a girlfriend. Lucas likes girls. They’re pretty and they smell nice. He just… doesn’t want to kiss them. If it was Eliott though… if Eliott wanted to… kiss him…

Lucas feels himself blush even deeper at the thought and he quickly pushes it from his mind as they come to a stop in front of a big door. Eliott smiles back at him, releasing his hand to reach for the door. Lucas quickly tucks the remnants of the meringue in his pocket, wiping his hand on his pants.

“We’re here,” Eliott grins. He pushes open the door and steps inside. It’s dark behind him. Lucas can’t tell where they are, but it doesn’t look very appealing. “Come on.”

Lucas hesitates. It just… dark, and it looks… a little scary. _God, don’t be stupid, Lucas_. He’ll think you’re so lame. Don’t be a baby. Just go. His feet don’t move. “I…” He’s not sure what he wants to say but it doesn’t matter anyways, the words don’t come.

“What?” Eliott suddenly steps forward and into Lucas’s space, face right in front of his. It makes the breath gust out of Lucas in a whoosh. “You’ll like it. I promise.” His smile is big and bright on his face. He’s so pretty. He’s much prettier than any girl Lucas has ever met.

“Ok.”

“Ok!” Eliott takes his hand again. Sparks shoot up and down Lucas’s arm as he’s pulled after Eliott and into the room. “It’s my favourite place in the whole Palace!” Eliott exclaims loudly, voice echoing in the room. It’s a library, Lucas realizes. It’s huge. His eyes don’t know where to look first but Eliott doesn’t allow him any time to take it in. “I’ll show you my favourite spot!” He breaks into a run and Lucas, with his hand held tightly in Eliott’s grasp, is pulled along. They run through the stacks until Eliott turns suddenly down one. Lucas doesn’t expect the movement and his arm twists sideways. He makes an accidental sound of pain and pulls his hand back from Eliott. It makes Eliott stop and turn to him quickly.

“Sorry,” Lucas apologizes rubbing his shoulder.

“Did I hurt you?” Eliott quickly moves towards him, not stopping until he’s almost pressed up against Lucas. He reaches and cups Lucas’s face between his hands. Lucas freezes in place. “Are you ok?” His thumbs are brushing along Lucas’s cheeks and his face is _so close_. He has beautiful eyes. Lucas can’t tell if they’re green or blue. In this light they look grey.

“I–” Lucas tries, and his voice comes out as a squeak. He knows his cheeks must be heated with embarrassment and Eliott can probably feel it. He wishes he wasn’t such a spazz. Just once he’d like to be cool. He tries again. “I’m ok. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Eliott has begun smiling again, his previous worry no longer present.

“I don’t know. Sorry.” Lucas admits in a whisper. Eliott’s face is still so close. His lips are just… right there.

Eliott snickers. “It’s ok. You’re cute.” He releases Lucas and turns to once again lead the way down the aisle of books.

Cute? _Cute_. Eliott thinks he’s cute! Lucas isn’t sure how he gets his feet moving again in his shock, but he hurries to stay close to Eliott. Eliott who thinks he’s _cute_. Eliott stops abruptly when they reach the end of the book aisle, flicking on a light, he stands in a corner nook. It doesn’t look particularly like anything, but Eliott turns to him with a beaming smile.

“It’s my favourite spot. I always come here. Sometimes I stay here for hours and hours. This is my favourite artwork. It’s by Goya. He’s amazing. I’m going to study art like this when I’m older. Do you know Goya?” He speaks quickly and Lucas, coming to stand beside him, has no idea how to keep up.

He nods. “Um… yes. I know… them.” He has never heard the name Goya before in his life.

“No, you don’t,” Eliott laughs. But he looks happy with Lucas anyways.

“I do,” Lucas says with a pout, stubbornly crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Eliott looks even happier by Lucas’s refusal to admit the truth. “Oh yeah?” He grins, stepping close enough that Lucas has to tilt his chin up to look at him. “Did you know Goya painted a picture of Saturn eating his own son right onto the walls of his house? Saturn ate all his children when they were born ‘cause he thought they’d overthrow him.”

That sounds like something Eliott just made up to tease Lucas. “No he didn’t,” Lucas disagrees tentatively, arms dropping down to nervously pull at the sides of his pants. “You made that up.”

Eliott laughs and suddenly raises a hand to Lucas’s face. Lucas freezes, blinking up at Eliott with wide, startled eyes. Eliott’s hand runs back and into his hair, messing up his carefully combed hairdo and Lucas wonders if it would be ok to ask him to put his other hand there too.

“You’re really, really cute,” Eliott says with a wide smile. His eyes drop to Lucas’s lips. Lucas holds his breath. “There’s more!” Eliott suddenly exclaims, dropping his hand from Lucas’s hair and moving away. “Come on!” He grabs Lucas’s hand again, pulling him into a corridor that runs next to the rows of book stacks. There’s art all along the walls but it’s too dark to make out much until they reach the main area where a few lights are on and a soft glow fills the space.

Eliott stops and turns to face him again but doesn’t release his hand. “Which one do you like best?”

Lucas looks at him confused for a moment before realizing, as Eliott turns to look at the paintings on the walls, that he’s talking about them. “Um…” Lucas turns to look, but he can barely focus. Eliott’s hand is warm holding his and Lucas thinks maybe… maybe Eliott feels a swoop in his stomach when he’s with Lucas too. “That one.” He points at a random painting. Though he actually does like it. It has pretty colours.

“That’s Monet. Good choice.” Eliott looks pleased and Lucas preens under the praise.

“I know,” he replies, a giddy feeling spreading through him and with it, a sudden burst of confidence. “I’m an art expert.”

Eliott laughs turning towards him fully. Lucas does the same. “An art expert?”

“Yes.” Lucas nods smartly, trying to hold back the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “That’s why I’m here tonight. The Queen hired me to tell everyone about art.”

“My mom hired you, hunh?” Eliott’s smile is stretching across his entire face and Lucas never wants to see him stop.

“That’s right. No one knows more about art than me.”

“Really?” Eliott nods, adopting a serious expression. “Ok.” He looks to their side where the art hangs on the wall. “Who painted that?”

Lucas doesn’t bother looking. “Fred.”

Eliott laughs delighted, bringing a hand back up to brush back Lucas’s hair and leaving it cupping the side of his head. He steps closer. “Fred? Fred who?”

Lucas is finding it really hard to concentrate on anything but how close Eliott is standing. The way his hand feels in Lucas’s hair. “Fred… Artist…o.”

“Fred Artisto?” Eliott’s eyes are skipping across his face, never resting in one spot too long. “That’s a good name for an artist.”

“Yeah,” Lucas whispers. His eyes drop inadvertently to Eliott’s lips. “That’s what I told him.”

Eliott laughs again, teeth bright in the dim light. “He’s still alive? How old is he?”

“One hundred and fifty,” Lucas answers. He’s not sure where his silly answers are coming from, but they keep making Eliott laugh and he’s never felt this warm or good. It fills his stomach like warm hot chocolate.

And then Eliott’s kissing him. Lucas doesn’t expect it. He’s not even sure what he does. He doesn’t really have a chance to do anything. Lips are pressing against his and explosions of vibrant colour erupt behind Lucas’s eyelids as he shuts his eyes. And then just as quickly, the lips are gone. Lucas blinks his eyes open. Eliott is smiling again, huge and just a little wild.

“Let’s run away!” He says excitedly and turns to begin pulling Lucas along behind him.

“What?” Lucas asks confused. Did that kiss just happen? Did he just imagine it? His very first kiss. And with a _boy_. He hopes he didn’t just imagine it.

Eliott stops and swings back to him, smile as bright as the moonlight streaming through the window. “Don’t you want to? We can run away. Together. We’ll get away from all of this!”

“Run away?” Lucas replies. His own voice sounds so… stupid. Confused and maybe a little scared.

“Yes!” Eliott doesn’t look upset by Lucas being so nervous and stupid. “I hate it here. You do too. We can run away, and we’ll never have to see any of them ever again!”

He’s joking. Lucas is sure he’s joking. He let’s a smile peak through on his face. “Where will we live?”

“Wherever!” Eliott crows happily, spreading his arms wide as though to suggest all their options.

Lucas giggles. “In a hotel?” When his dad is being mean Lucas likes to daydream about running away and living in the fanciest hotel and getting to order room service whenever he wants. He could have ice cream every night and try all the pretty desserts!

“Yes,” Eliott agrees, his breath is coming quickly with the excitement of their make-believe plans. “The penthouse suite! The best room we can get.”

“I want ice cream every night. And burgers and fries!”

“Every night! We’ll have ice cream at our wedding.”

“Our wedding?” Lucas sputters with a laugh. “We can’t get married.”

“What?!” A wrinkle appears between Eliott’s eyebrows. “Of course we’ll get married. We don’t need anybody else. Just you and me!”

Lucas can feel his cheeks redden. Eliott wants to _marry_ him. It’s just make-believe but… still. Lucas is pretty sure that means Eliott just might want to be boyfriends. Lucas can’t even believe he’s thought the word. _Boyfriends._ With Eliott! “We’re just kids,” he protests, suddenly shy.

“That’s the best reason!” Eliott steps towards him, placing both his hands on the side of Lucas’s neck. Lucas gasps at the touch.

“That’s not a reason,” he whispers in reply.

“Sure it is,” Eliott disagrees with a charming smile and Lucas just really wants to see if he can try this kissing thing again. But this time when he’s expecting it and maybe he can do a better job.

“Eliott?” He swallows and searches for the confidence that had him making Eliott laugh earlier. “Would you – could you maybe kiss me again?”

The smile on Eliott’s face goes soft and sweet, and his eyes drop to Lucas’s lips. “I’m not going to stop kissing you. I’m going to kiss you all the time,” he whispers and begins to lean down. Slowly this time.

“Ok,” Lucas breathes.

And then Eliott’s lips are back on his. And Lucas still doesn’t know what to do. But he knows he likes it. Eliott’s hands slide to his face and he controls the kiss, moving his face back and forth as he presses their lips together wetly again and again. Lucas clutches at the front of his shirt, pulling Eliott closer and returning the kiss tentatively. He moves his lips against Eliott, pressing back against him a little harder. It makes Eliott’s hands tighten on his face. Lucas wants to kiss him forever. No one else. If this is kissing, Lucas doesn’t understand why anyone ever stops. Eliott’s tongue presses to his lower lip, licking a little, and Lucas realizes with a burst of excitement that bubbles inside him like a super fizzy drink, that Eliott wants to kiss _with tongue_. God Lucas can’t believe his luck. His very first kisses get to be with Eliott. And Eliott wants to kiss him all the time. And with tongue!

It’s just as he begins to open his mouth, panicking over what he’s supposed to do with his own tongue that the worst possible sound in the world echoes through the room. His father’s voice.

“What are you doing?!”

Lucas rips his face away from Eliott with a gasp, turning his head to see his father approaching from the door to the library. He’s furious. And he’s not alone. A woman walks with him. It takes Lucas a second to recognize her. Eliott’s mom. The Queen! Lucas attempts to push away from Eliott but Eliott won’t release his hold, hands going to Lucas’s shirt and pulling him close.

“Dad, I–”

“Get away from my son!” The Queen snaps as she approaches, looking just as angry as Lucas’s dad. She grabs for Eliott once she reaches them, pulling him away from Lucas. Eliott doesn’t release his hold and as a result Lucas falls forward, stopped only by his dad’s hold, grip latching to the back of his neck, already too tight. Pain shoots through Lucas’s body.

“NO!” Eliott cries out, pushing his mother away from him violently. She stumbles backwards. “Get away from me! We’re running away! I don’t care. You can’t stop me!”

“Eliott, calm down.” His mother speaks to him gently but in obvious frustration.

Lucas’s father’s hand tightens on his neck and Lucas feels tears spring to his eyes. He can’t turn his head to explain. He’s not even sure what he’d say. He desperately wants Eliott to turn back to him. To look at him and… save him. To take him away from his dad. For them to really run away. To never see any of them again. For it to just be the two of them. Just like Eliott said. Lucas doesn’t want it to be make-believe anymore.

“I won’t!” Eliott yells. His hands go to his hair and he pulls at the strands. “I won’t! I hate this. I hate this! I hate these clothes.” He rips at his shirt, entirely unconcerned for the buttons which skitter across the floor as they snap off in Eliott’s haste to rid himself of the material. He makes an agonized sound, something caught between frustration and pain. He suddenly seems nothing like the boy Lucas just kissed. Lucas wants to call out to him. He wants to hold him and calm him down. He’s frozen in place instead.

“Eliott! Eliott!” His mother yells in an attempt to get his attention but Eliott no longer seems entirely aware of her presence, too concerned with ridding himself of his clothes. His shirt hangs ripped off one shoulder and he’s kicking off his shoes. “Vincent!” The queen yells. “Get in here now!”

The guard Lucas had noticed earlier in the hall hurries into the room. He moves immediately to Eliott, coming behind him and restraining Eliott’s hands across his chest to prevent him from tearing at his clothes and bare chest any longer.

“No,” Eliott wails miserably, slumping in the hold. “No.” He begins sobbing. Big hiccuping sobs. Lucas is terrified. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but he’s never felt a stronger urge to hold someone. Except maybe his mom. The way Eliott’s acting… it reminds Lucas of her. He doesn’t realize he’s attempted to take a step towards Eliott until his dad’s hand clamps down ever further, shaking him just once in warning. Lucas releases an accidental sound of pain. The Queen’s eyes snap to him before she looks back at the guard holding Eliott.

“Get him to his room. The back stairway. Make sure you are not seen. Be gentle with him.”

The guard nods and loosens his hold on Eliott. With an arm beneath Eliott’s shoulders he hauls him towards the exit from the library. The Queen turns, following at Eliott’s side as she speaks gently to him. Eliott doesn’t resist, head hanging, tears now streaking silently down his face, he shuffles along.

“Eliott!!!” Lucas doesn’t know where he finds the strength to call out, but it doesn’t matter. Eliott doesn’t turn. His dad responds instead, violently shoving Lucas towards the ground by the back of the neck. Lucas collapses to the floor, slamming his knees down painfully and falling to his palms.

He kneels, crumpled on the floor listening until he can hear the library door swing shut, and then the clicking of the Queen’s heels as she walks back towards them. “I assume you will handle your son,” she speaks. “I do not want to see him in my Palace. He is to go nowhere near my son ever again.”

“Of course,” his father responds. “I apologize for his behaviour, ma’am. It will never happen again.”

Lucas looks up tearfully towards the Queen. There’s hesitation on her face. Her eyes flick between Lucas’s dad and himself, and for one hopeful second Lucas thinks she might do something, she might stay, she might _realize_ and… stop his dad. A cry can suddenly be heard in the distance from the hall. Eliott. Her face hardens and she turns, leaving Lucas behind. He drops his head and listens to her steps until he can’t hear them any longer, until the door to the library has closed behind her and silence settles, weighty and dangerous. He presses his face down to the back of his hands, squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as possible. He won’t cry. Not yet. Not until he’s alone. His dad’s hand fists in the back of his shirt, yanking him up roughly. Lucas remains limp as a rag doll, only holding his own weight when his dad forces him to, jerking him to a stand. He points a threatening finger in Lucas’s face, close and spitting each word. Lucas drops his eyes, concentrating on a piece of lint on his dad’s suit jacket.

“I will not have a son who would shame me like this! My son is not like _that._ You will not be like that!” His hand moves, connecting to Lucas’s cheek with a sharp smack. “You will look at me when I’m taking to you!” Lucas raises his eyes to his father. His cheek only stings a little. The slap wasn’t enough to leave a mark. His dad probably doesn’t want to. Not yet. Not when there are people who will see. Lucas suddenly wants it. Maybe if he hurts Lucas now, like he’s planning to do when they get home… maybe if he makes Lucas bleed… someone will see. Someone will stop them. Eliott will find out. And – and he’ll help. He’ll take Lucas away. He won’t let Lucas’s dad hurt him anymore.

His dad continues ranting. “Do you have any idea the damage you’ve done? You are lucky the Queen was so kind. Can you imagine my humiliation having the Queen approach me to say my son was spotted with the Royal Prince! Skipping like some sort of Nancy boy down back hallways of the Palace?! And to find you – touching the Prince like that?! Forcing yourself on him like some sort of disgusting–”

“I wasn’t!” Lucas shouts, sharp and loud. “I didn’t force myself. He wanted to kiss me. He wanted to! I wanted him to kiss me too! We’re going to be boyfriends. We’re going to run away and be together. You can’t stop us!”

His dad hits him. Hard this time. Hard enough that Lucas feels his lip split open immediately and he stumbles backwards into the table behind them. And then he hits him again. And again. Lucas can’t feel the blows anymore. There’s a ringing in his head and he curls towards the table, covering his head desperately with his arms.

When it all ends. When his father is satisfied and drags him from the library, bleeding and aching all over from more than the blows themselves, he makes sure to use a back exit. A small bit of hope still burns in Lucas’s chest. Someone still might see them. The guard that took Eliott away. Maybe Eliott will come looking for him. Maybe the Queen will change her mind and want to protect him. It’s not until his father has retrieved the car and shoved Lucas into the passenger seat that he lets the hopeless feeling fill him completely. He’s never going to get away. Not unless he escapes. Eliott will never be able to find him if Lucas isn’t allowed in the Palace anymore. And his dad will never allow… no. His dad knows now.

By the time they return home Lucas can feel one of his eyes is swelling. He’s afraid to look at himself in a mirror. The moment Lucas moves towards the hall leading to his mother's room, his father grabs his arm, jerking him back and smacking him quickly across the face. The slap hurts far more than it should. A hit to already tender skin. Lucas cries out, pressing a hand to his face and unable to stop a few of the tears welling up in his eyes from spilling over.

“You think you’ll go cry to her now?” His dad spits, hand tightening on Lucas’s arm. “You’re lucky I let you off so easy. I should kill you for what you did tonight. Rather have a dead son than a son like that.” He shoves Lucas roughly towards the stairs to the second floor and his bedroom. “You get in your room and think about what you’ve done. We’ll discuss this in the morning.”

Lucas does as he’s told. Quickly scaling the stairs and retreating into his room. He shuts the door gently, not wanting to enrage his father any further, and sits on the edge of his bed. He’s not sure how much time passes. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t look in a mirror. He sits and concentrates on the painful feeling of his heart pulsing in time with the bruises forming on his face. He waits until he sees the lights go off under the edge of his door, his father retreating to his own room, waits until the stillness of their house has settled in the night hour. He doesn’t take anything with him. He leaves his room exactly as he found it and creeps down the stairs, then down the hallway until he reaches his mom’s room. When he enters, she’s sleeping. All he wants to do is crawl into bed with her. Let her kiss his bruises as she always does. Let her hug him until it all doesn’t seem so terrible anymore. But he can’t. Not this time. He needs to get away. Just like Eliott said.

He shakes her shoulder gently until her eyes blink awake.

“Baby?” She scans his face in the darkness confused.

“I need to go, mom,” he whispers and finds that the tears previously stifled have once again found their way to his face. “I can’t–” his voice cracks, “I can’t stay here with him anymore. He hates me and I hate him.” 

His mom’s hand reaches out, hovering over what’s sure to be obvious wounds and bruises. She rests it back in his hair instead. “I know, baby. I know.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucas manages, tears now present in his voice, “I’m sorry. I’m going to get us help. Not – not the police.” Lucas remembers very well what happened the last time his mom had called the police. “Someone better. He’ll know what to do. And then I’ll come back. I’ll come back for you. And we’ll both get away.”

His mom nods, a gentle smile on her face. “Yes. Find Wesley.” It’s ok that she doesn’t understand completely. It’s better this way, that she thinks Lucas will be safe. He nods and she continues, voice gentle, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He can’t stay any longer or he’ll never leave. He moves to go but his mom’s soft hand on his arm has him looking back. She sits up a little, releasing his arm to reach into her bedside drawer.

“No,” he shakes his head in refusal when he sees what she’s attempting to hand him.

“Yes, my love.” She places the DVD in his hand. “It’s for you. So you can find him, and so you know I’m with you. Always and forever. Remember,” she clasps her hand over his, “if love were a grain of sand, mine for you would be…”

“A universe of beaches,” Lucas finishes for her in a whisper. He leans forward to hug her, clutching to her tightly, pressing his bruised and throbbing face into her shoulder and breathing her in as she holds him back.

He leaves with only the DVD in hand. Everything else left behind. It doesn’t take long for despair to sink into his bones. Though maybe that’s not right. Maybe hours have passed. He’s lost track of time as he walks. He’s long since left their neighbourhood and the area he’s in now makes him nervous. He’s only ever been here during daylight and only from a car. It’s never looked this scary before. He shivers. He hadn’t brought a jacket and it’s much colder than he realized. His entire body has started to hurt, and he feels so very tired. His plan starts to seem… not very good. He remembers Eliott yelling at his mother… how he never turned back to Lucas once their parents had come into the library… how he never even looked when Lucas called his name. He remembers the way it felt to see Eliott cry… the way it reminded him of his mother. And he suddenly just… doesn’t know what to do. How will he get to Eliott? Does Eliott even want him there? What if it was all make-believe to him? What if he doesn’t really want to run away with Lucas? What if it wasn’t real for him?

Lucas can feel the panic build, as quickly as the fear does. He can’t go back home. He _can’t_. But he has nowhere else. And it’s cold. And he’s so tired. And his face aches. He sniffles and wipes at his eyes, the pain of his swollen eye making his tears come even faster. A sob breaks from him, quiet in the stillness of the night. There are lights just ahead, on the other side of the street, and there are older kids standing outside. Lucas walks quietly until he’s just across the street from them, moving a little into shadow and slumping to the ground, wrapping himself around his knees. He watches them. There are a couple older boys smoking and laughing. But there is a young girl too. She sits on a chair with another older girl talking to her. It’s a little hard to tell but it sounds like they’re talking about nightmares. ‘Fresh air always makes it better’ the older girl is telling the younger girl as she pets her hair. And then suddenly the younger girl is looking right at Lucas. He shakes in an attempt to quiet his sobs, wiping again at his face as she sits up, still looking over at him. And then she’s approaching. Just her. The older girl calls after her but the younger girl doesn’t stop. She doesn’t stop until she’s kneeling down in front of Lucas.

“Hi,” she smiles, way too big and way too happy for how Lucas feels.

“Hi,” he whispers back, voice shaking with his tears.

“I’m Alexia. What’s your name?”

“Lucas.”

“Lucas. That’s an awesome name!” She reaches forward and touches a finger to the eyebrow of his swollen eye. He flinches and she moves her hand back to pet his head. “Come on, Lucas. Let’s go inside. You can stay with me! We have hot chocolate and I can fix all your cuts. Don’t worry, I know how.” She looks so confident and sure. And she’s so nice.

He nods a little tentatively and let’s her take his hand, pulling him to a stand. She keeps their hands linked as she pulls him across the street behind her.

She looks back to him with a quick smile as they approach the other kids who are looking at Lucas curiously now. “You’re going to love it here. I promise.” 

And just like that… she saves him. Before he ever learned to save himself. When he needed it the most. When he had no one else.

* * * *

**(Present Day)**

* * * *

Lucas only makes it to 6:30. He feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin. He can’t stop shaking. He can’t feel the cold anymore and almost walks out of his room in his underwear. Somewhere in the night he became numb to it. He thankfully catches himself just as he reaches his door, turning back and quickly putting on a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt and his biggest sweatshirt. The clothing wraps him in warmth and he shudders with it. It feels unearned.

It’s when he’s pulling the sweatshirt over his head that he’s reminded of the wound on his face. The material scrapes against it and it sends a zinging shock of pain through him. It a harrowing reminder. He ducks his head out the door and ensures no one else is in the hall, before he rushes to the bathroom.

He tries not to look at himself too closely in the mirror, concentrating on cleaning the wound on his cheekbone and nothing else. It’s swollen and vicious looking. A deeper bruise is forming around it and the skin remains red and puffy but the cut itself isn’t too deep. The bags around his eyes are just as startling but can’t be helped. There’s nothing to do but clean the dried blood from his face and leave the wound exposed. He can’t worry about it now. There are more important things to do. Eliott. Lucas needs to see him.

It’s early enough that the only staff he needs to avoid are the morning kitchen staff which is easy enough to do. Thankfully no one is in the main area of the Palace. He’s able to slip up the stairs to the second floor and the twin’s wing without running into anyone else. The last thing he needs is someone reporting his presence to the Queen.

It’s as he’s standing in front of Eliott’s door that the early hour and the reality of what he’s about to do – what he needs to do and what he potentially loses if he doesn’t – sinks into him like an icy death grip. He’s terrified. He’s still shaking. Can’t seem to stop. Eliott is probably still asleep. He’ll likely be angry Lucas has sought him out so early in the morning when Eliott doesn’t expect him and his defenses are down. It might be a terrible idea, but Lucas doesn’t have other options. If he doesn’t fix this, if he gives Eliott more time to realize how much Lucas has screwed up, if he allows him time to decide Lucas is more trouble than he’s worth, that the two of them together are more trouble than it’s worth…

He can’t. Lucas can’t let him. He pauses before knocking. Eliott might not answer. Worse yet he might answer but slam the door on Lucas’s face when he realizes it’s him. Fuck. _Fuck._ There’s no right way to do this. Decision made Lucas knocks and immediately tries the door. It’s unlocked and he pushes it open and enters the room, shutting the door softly behind him. When he turns back towards the room, he looks immediately to the bed. Eliott’s not in it. In fact, the covers are undisturbed as though it hasn’t been slept in. Confused Lucas turns to scan the room. He finds Eliott next to the fireplace. He’s curled up on one of the reading chairs under a blanket. He’s awake and staring at Lucas in shock. He looks like he didn’t sleep either. He has deep bags under his eyes… eyes which are clearly bloodshot.

Eliott stands quickly, shoving the blanket aside. He too has changed out of his formal clothes and wears a comfortable pair of sweats and a t-shirt. He looks soft and rumpled, and Lucas only wants to hold him, to cuddle back up in the chair together and forget everything that happened last night. No… not everything. Everything that happened after their parents appeared and destroyed their happiness.

“Lucas…” His voice is gentle and rough with disuse. He doesn’t sound angry. “What are you…” He trails off as though the words are unnecessary.

And Lucas doesn’t know what to say. Not because he doesn’t have the words but because there are too many. He should have thought about it. He should have planned a speech. Something convincing and true. He should have thought this through.

“I…” He drops his head a little, eyes going to the ground for a moment while he collects his thoughts and he hears a startled gasp from Eliott. And then suddenly Eliott’s coming towards him. Lucas’s eyes fly back to him surprised. Eliott’s hands come up to hold Lucas’s face. It’s as Eliott turns his head slightly to the side that Lucas realizes he’s looking at the injury.

“Lucas what happened?” He asks, thumb brushing the skin beneath the wound.

“Um…” Lucas is having a hard time concentrating on the question with Eliott’s hands on him. “My father.”

“He hit you?!” Eliott’s hands drop back to his sides, clenching in fists. His face transforms with fury.

Lucas shrugs. “Not the first time. Will be the last though.” He doesn’t mean to make light of it. He just doesn’t want to focus on his father’s violence.

“But I told Idriss…” Eliott bites in anger. “I told him to–”

“Yeah,” Lucas cuts him off. “I know. He did. I mean, he came and stopped my father before it got worse. Thank you for – yeah.” He shuffles a little uncomfortably, eyes dropping to Eliott’s chest and resting there.

“Why didn’t you…” Eliott hand lifts and hovers next to him for a second as though he’s thinking about touching Lucas again before he reconsiders. “You’re so strong. Idriss always says so. Why didn’t you…” His hand flaps a bit in frustration at not being able to find the right words. Lucas knows what he’s asking anyways.

“I deserved it.”

“What?!” Eliott exclaims in outrage and steps a little closer. His hand moves again before falling to his side. Lucas wants to yell at him. _Just touch me. Please. Just touch me and don’t stop._ “No, you didn’t! No one deserves to be hit. God, if I’d been there…” Eliott turns away, pacing towards the fireplace before turning back, hands cutting through the air in front of him in frustration. “I – _god_ – I would have–”

“You would have what?” Lucas asks and he can’t help the way his mouth curls up in the corners. “Kicked his ass for me?”

Eliott’s hands fall back to his sides and he expels a deep breath. They stare at one another. There’s no smile on Eliott’s face. No indication he found humour in the thought and Lucas drop his eyes once more, smile falling with them.

“You were him. The boy I kissed. You were him and you knew. You knew the entire time?”

So they’re just diving right into it then. Well, it’s probably for the best. Small talk has never been Lucas’s forte. It always feels false. And he’s never been false with Eliott. Not even when keeping this from him. Lucas has only ever been himself with Eliott. More himself than with anyone else in his life.

“Yes,” he admits, a crack in his voice. “I knew but I–”

“I just keep thinking,” Eliott interrupts, “about every time we spoke. From the very first moment with the street meat guy. You knew then. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Not like that,” Lucas insists. “Not like your mother says it. Not like that. I knew you and I just… I couldn’t leave you there. Not when you were in trouble.”

“And then after,” Eliott continues as though he hasn’t heard Lucas speak. “Every time we spoke. It all feels different now. All the time we spent together, and I thought we were getting to know one another. I thought we were–”

“We were,” Lucas insists, frustration he doesn’t mean to project, bleeding into his tone. “God, we were! Do you think I got to know you then? At thirteen? High off being with a boy I liked for the very first time? So out of my mind giddy over my first kiss! And with the Prince I’d been crushing on since I was ten years old and he barely spared me a glance!”

“Your first kiss?” Eliott gapes at him. “I was your first…” His eyes drop for a moment to the side, his brows furrowing in concentration. “Oh god.” His eyes come back to Lucas’s looking utterly devastated. “You said you’d only been kissed by one person before. You meant me? You meant me?!”

“Yes,” Lucas admits in a whisper. “I’ve only been kissed by you.”

“Lucas,” he near chokes saying his name, “how could you not tell me? How could you let me talk like that? About him – _you_? God you let me look like such a fool.”

“No. No! I just… I never knew how you felt about any of it. I never saw you again, Eliott! I was left there alone for my father to beat into a bloody pulp.” He doesn’t mean to direct anger Eliott’s way, but the frustration of this conversation has him wanting to pull out his hair.

“That’s when you ran? From him? After we – after that night?”

Lucas nods. “He couldn’t deny it anymore. Not after he saw us together. I was afraid he’d kill me. I think I was right to be afraid.”

“Oh my god.” Eliott hunches over a little holding his stomach, looking as though he’s going to either pass out or throw up. “I was sick,” he suddenly insists, defensive. “I was sick. I couldn’t help. I couldn’t stay and protect you. I was fifteen!”

“I know that! What the fuck?!” Lucas can’t help the way he responds, emotions piling up at the back of his throat. “I’m not saying it was your fault! I’m just trying to explain.”

“How can you explain? How can you explain any of this? I kissed you when you were thirteen and it nearly got you killed. It destroyed your life. You had to run away. You were homeless! You–” It’s as though he’s choking on emotions too and his breath is coming fast and frantic.

“It was for the best. I wouldn’t wish it on any kid but… it was for the best. It made me… me.” He wouldn’t thank his abusive father for that or repeat the experience if given a choice, but he needs to see the positive in the outcome or he’d drive himself mad with the memories. “And I got away from him.”

“Only to end up here again. With me. Again. In the library. Beaten up by your father. Again. Because of me.” Eliott’s face is a mottled mix of despair and anger. Lucas can’t be sure whether it’s meant for him or the situation in general. He doesn’t want to ask.

“I make my own choices, Eliott. You didn’t decide any of that for me. I knew what I was doing.” There is nothing he likes less than someone stripping him of his own advocacy.

“Yes, I know,” Eliott’s voice goes cold and Lucas’s stomach drops wondering where he just went wrong. “And you chose not to tell me,” Eliott continues. “You chose to lie and keep it all from me. Even knowing how I – knowing how I felt about you–” His breath hitches.

“I didn’t lie!” Lucas replies outraged but he’s bluffing. He knows he’s bluffing. If he didn’t outright lie, he might as well have. Lies of omission are still lies. But he just can’t… he can’t let Eliott think what his father said was true. That he was pulling some sort of con-job. That he was _using_ Eliott. “I didn’t tell you and I should have. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I know. But when, Eliott? How would I tell you? When we first met? _Oh hi again, the first boy I ever kissed!_ When we started sleeping together? Ya, some pillow talk that would be!”

“You knew how I felt, and you let me put it all out there – everything on the line – when you were holding everything back!” Eliott’s voice rises with his agitation and he’s begun gesturing wildly with his hands again.

“I didn’t know how you felt! I still don’t. When have you ever told me?!” Lucas can’t believe his ears. Eliott is making it sound like he declared his undying love and Lucas spit on it.

“Screw you, Lucas! Everyday. I showed you everyday!” His eyes have reddened and glisten with unshed tears. The sight is a punch to Lucas’s stomach.

“Showed me what? That you want me?!” Lucas latches to indignation, refusing to acknowledge the hollow pit forming in his stomach at the sight of Eliott’s upset. “And I’m supposed to take what from that? Lots of people want me, Eliott!”

“You think I don’t fu – _fucking_ know that?! I know that!” The pain in his expression is replaced by anger and Lucas welcomes it. Eliott steps closer, into Lucas’s space, jaw clenched. “I knew it every time you touched me! That you could have anyone you wanted.”

“Am I supposed to apologize for that too?!”

“No! Jesus! You’re so frustrating.” He rolls his eyes. Lucas can’t remember the count. “You aren’t listening!” They’ve gravitated even closer together and Lucas has to tilt his head up to look at Eliott.

“Listening to what? What am I supposed to hear? You hate that other people want me. I already knew that.”

“I don’t care if other people want you!” Eliott’s eyes are ferocious and Lucas can see his hands opening and closing at his sides, desperate to stop himself from touching. “I just wanted you to want me instead.”

Lucas’s eyes drop to Eliott’s lips. “I only ever wanted you.”

There’s a pregnant pause between them, laced with tension. _Kiss me. KISS ME._ Lucas repeats it again and again in his head hoping against all odds that Eliott will hear him, will do it despite the tight grip he seems to have on his self-control.

“But you don’t trust me.” Eliott’s voice has gone quiet. He takes a step back. _No._ “Not enough to be honest.”

“That’s not what – it wasn’t like that!” Lucas fumbles desperately. This conversation has veered so off course he has no idea where the road even is anymore. “I couldn’t. I just… I couldn’t. I have everything to lose, Eliott.”

“So do I!” Eliott yells. The sound cuts sharp through the room and silences Lucas. Eliott takes a deep breath and continues, more controlled now. “I have risked everything for you.”

“I–” Lucas tries but he’s cut off by Eliott’s palm raised gently to silence him.

“I don’t even know what was real.” Eliott’s eyes drop from Lucas’s, staring to the side and past him as if lost in his own thoughts. “I thought I understood you – knew you – but I don’t know anything. I don’t know you at all. You made sure of that.” It’s not true. Eliott is the only one Lucas has ever let truly see him. That he doesn’t see it – doesn’t realize it – doesn’t even try… it empties Lucas of all desire to change his mind. He’d lost Eliott before he ever entered the room. “I’m just so confused.” He looks up to meet Lucas’s eyes. There’s pain in his gaze but there’s a calmness too. It scares Lucas far more than his anger. “I can’t think when you’re here. I see you and I just want to–” He gestures towards Lucas, eyes dropping to his lips. It makes Lucas’s breath catch. “And I can’t do that. I can’t ignore everyone and everything else anymore. Too many people are relying on me.”

“I don’t want you to,” Lucas interjects, pushing his voice to project but managing no more than a whisper. “I never wanted you to. I never asked you to.”

Eliott nods but his expression hasn’t changed. “I need you to leave me alone.” Lucas is robbed of breath, as though a hand has ripped into his lungs and stolen it. “I need to think.” Lucas knows what that means. He’s given up. It wasn’t worth it. _It’s over._ “I just – I need time to think. This is about more than you and – and me. I get so caught up in you… I can’t do that now. I have to figure this out. Please can you just give me time?”

Time. He needs _time._ It’s an answer to a question Lucas hadn’t even had the guts to ask. He’s lost him. And he can’t even blame Eliott for it. He’s right. Lucas betrayed his trust. He threw Eliott’s world into turmoil. He focused the Queen’s attention on them and then set Eliott’s world on fire. And people _are_ depending on Eliott. Manon and Idriss, and Lucille and Chloe. Relationships not built on deception. Relationships built on love…

“Yeah,” Lucas nods, voice barely forming around the jagged gravel in his throat. He runs a hand through his hair, tipping his head down as he clears his throat. “Yeah, of course. I understand.” He looks up at Eliott who’s watching him cautiously. But he’s calm. He’s certain. He’s behaving as Lucas always believed he was capable. Someone sure of their decisions, someone certain they are doing what’s best for not only themselves but those around them. Like a leader. “I’ll go.” Eliott nods and Lucas turns, making his way to the door slowly.

He’s lost everything. Though maybe it was never meant to be his. This life. In a Palace of all fucking places. With a room to call his own. With friends, and a passion he could devote himself too. With a bright and promising future. With a hope of… more. More with Eliott. That it all would disappear from his grasp by his own actions feels like the wound on his face has reopened and grown, splitting him down his center, everything he is spilling onto the floor of Eliott’s bedroom.

“Eliott,” Lucas pauses with the door open, staring out into the hall. He doesn’t look back. The words won’t make any difference, but he needs to say them all the same. “All of it. From the beginning. All of it was real. For me.”

* * * *

Lucas walks in a sort of daze, forgetting to be cautious about being seen in the halls. He can’t be sure whether he passes anyone, but he’s not interrupted or stopped. He’s barely in his room five seconds when Chloe is barreling in after him.

“Lucas! Oh my god, Lucas!” She’s still in her pajamas but her hair is pulled back haphazardly in a hair band. It looks like she was in the middle of her morning makeup routine and decided speaking to him was important enough to interrupt the process. “Where were you? Were you working out? I have been _dying_ to talk to you! Oh my god, what happened to your face?!” She’s speaking a million words a minute, smile on her face bright and wide. She radiates happiness.

He dismisses her concern with a casual wave of the hand. “Don’t worry about it. Just got clumsy in the dark. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? That looks really–”

“ _Really._ Now why so eager?” Lucas does his best to muster an interested smile – to project the attitude she expects. “If I’d known one Chloe Jeanson was going to come looking for me at the crack of dawn, I would have sat here waiting in my best dress.”

“Shut up!” She laughs shoving his shoulder. “Ok so, you know how I was working last night?” She dives right in, obviously bursting with excitement to relay her news.

“No, do tell.” He rolls his eyes. “Was something going on last night?”

“Ugh, you are so annoying!” She doesn’t look the least bit annoyed, her smile only widening with her delight. “So, Lucille was there with her parents, right?” She doesn’t seem to need him to participate in this conversation with much more than a nod of the head. “Well I was avoiding them. I mean _obviously_.” Lucas nods. “But then I was walking back to the bar…” She pauses dramatically and Lucas would really like to roll his eyes at her again, but he doesn’t have it in him. He nods. “And someone grabbed my arm! And I thought it was just some drunk older gross guy, right? There’s always an asshole or two at these events who think I’m just an ass to pinch.” Lucas makes an involuntary face of disgust. _Fucking asshole rich pricks_. “I know,” Chloe agrees. “Anyways guess who it was?”

“Chloe, seriously?” Lucas sighs. He wishes he could match her excitement but it’s taking everything in him just to listen attentively.

“Ok, ok,” she gives. “Lucille! And she was with her parents!”

That actually _is_ surprising. “Really?”

“Yes!” Chloe squeaks, jumping a little on her feet. “She introduced me as her girlfriend, Lucas. Her girlfriend!”

“Holy shit.” Apparently, he wasn’t the only one with life-changing events foisted upon him last night.

“I know! Can you believe it?! She said she couldn’t take it anymore. That she wanted to be with me for real and for everyone to know. For real, Lucas! In public and everything!” She squeals a little and hops forward to hug him, squeezing tightly around his neck.

“Wow,” he manages, trying to infuse some happiness in his voice. He _is_ happy for her. It just feels as though he’s forgotten what it’s even supposed to sound like. What it really feels like. “And it all went… ok?”

Her smile dims a little as she pulls back, but her happiness remains. “Well Lucille told them like that because she knew they wouldn’t make a scene. I don’t think they were very happy,” she admits. “It maybe wasn’t the best way to do things. I don’t care though. And she texted me later and said it was going to be ok. She was working it all out. She only stayed with them last night to discuss everything. She’ll be back here tonight.”

“That’s amazing, Chloe. I’m sure Lucille will sort it with her parents.” He’d bet on Lucille any day of the week.

“Yeah,” Chloe agrees looking confident. “And she doesn’t care if they don’t approve. She has Eliott’s support anyways. I’m sure that means more to them than Lucy’s happiness.”

Lucas chuckles. “Damn, Jeanson! That sounded pretty fucking callous. Proud of you.”

“Learned from the best,” she giggles poking his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he agrees, previous humour expelled. He bends to busy himself with pulling his duffel bag out from beneath his bed. He flops it on the bed and unzips it. “Can’t wait to see how disgusting you two are when you’re public.”

“I still work here, Lucas,” Chloe points out slyly. “I have to be professional.”

Lucas snorts as he moves over to his dresser and begins pulling out clothes. “Sure. I don’t even want to know all the places you two have fucked in this place.”

“Oh yeah, you’re one to talk. Like you and Eliott haven’t – wait, what are you doing?” She moves beside him at the bed, jostling his bag slightly.

“Packing. Thought that was obvious.” He keeps his tone light.

“Why?” She doesn’t sound overly concerned, just curious. “Are you and Eliott going away?”

“Uh, no,” Lucas clears his throat. The last thing he wants to do is have this discussion with Chloe. It’s inevitable but… he just wishes it didn’t have to happen. “Not with Eliott. Just you know… moving out.”

“What?!” Chloe cries immediately upset. “Why? You’ve barely even lived here. Is it me? Am I too much?”

“No,” Lucas turns to her, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “Of course not. I love living with you.” He quickly turns back to begin shoving clothing in his bag.

The sadness doesn’t lessen on her face. “Then why? I don’t understand.”

He just needs to get the words out. _Just do it once and then it’s done._ Then it will get easier. Then he can leave it behind. “It’s just that… things didn’t really work out.” His eyes blur where he focuses them, shoving the clothing into his bag. He pauses in his movements, blinking rapidly and taking a deep breath to try to keep the emotion at bay. “I sort of screwed up.”

“Lucas,” she pulls his shoulder until he’s forced to face her and tilts his face up with a grip on his chin, “what is going on? What do you mean?”

He looks into her eyes and it rushes up on him before he can stop it. “Eliott he–” A sob breaks at the back of his throat, tears blur his vision. Chloe’s hands move to cradle his face, touch gentle. “It’s over. He doesn’t want to see me again.” It’s all he manage before he lets it drown him, the overwhelming loss, the despair of losing something he’s not even sure he had. Squeezing his eyes shut, his body shakes with repressed sorrow.

“Lucas…” Chloe immediately pulls him into her in a tight hug. He wraps his arms around her and takes the comfort she offers, crying with deep, silent, shuddering breathes into her shoulder. She rubs his back, pulling him to the bed and sitting them both on the edge, holding him tightly to her until his breathing begins to settle. It doesn’t take long. He hates crying. It reminds him too acutely of being thirteen again – powerless, alone, hopeless. This might be the one time the association feels viscerally appropriate. Lucas never did leave him behind. That thirteen-year-old. He’d fallen for Eliott too. And it had broken him. Just as it’s broken Lucas now.

“I’m sorry,” he says sitting up, wiping ineffectively at his face. His cheek burns. “I didn’t mean to – you should be happy and texting your girlfriend. Not sitting with me ruining your mood.”

“Shut up,” she replies with a huff. “I don’t care about my mood. I care about you. What do you mean Eliott doesn’t want to see you anymore? What happened?”

“Chloe,” he pleads desperately, “can you just leave it? I messed up. It’s not his fault and he wants me gone.”

But she’s Chloe and she’s stubborn. “Messed up how?”

“I just… I lied. Or – I didn’t tell him things. About who I am. About us knowing one another as kids.” He’s feels suddenly and overwhelmingly tired.

“What does that matter?” She sounds outraged. “What does that have to do with your job here or – or your relationship with him? That’s stupid!”

“It’s not,” he disagrees and pulls away from her hold, moving towards his desk to collect his books and put them in his bag. “He was right to ask me to leave. If he hadn’t his mother would have anyways.” He reaches for the photos tacked to the wall above his bed. He’d thought he could make this place his home. He hadn’t even hesitated in putting the pictures up. God, he’d been so stupid.

“His moth… wait,” she pulls at his bag from where she remains sitting on the bed. “Stop. Stop packing! This isn’t right. He doesn’t want you to leave. I’m sure this is a mistake.”

“Chloe,” he pulls his bag back and forces himself to meet her eyes, “I need to finish packing and get out of here before the rest of the house wakes up. And you need to finish getting ready for work.”

“No!” She disagrees. “I don’t care. I want to help. Please, Lucas.”

“You can’t,” he interrupts. “I’ll text you, ok? This isn’t the first time I’ve been out on my ass.” He tries to make light of the situation, but he can see tears welling in Chloe’s eyes. He looks away and back to his bag. “I’ll be fine.”

“But where will you go?” Chloe’s voice trembles with emotion.

He hadn’t given it any thought. The reality of leaving hadn’t seemed real. His answer comes immediately anyways. “My sister’s. The shelter.”

“You’ll be ok?”

“Sure.” He smiles at her. He knows she won’t buy it for a second, they know one another too well, but she’ll let him fake it. He hustles her to the door. “Now get out of here and get ready for work before I get you in trouble too.”

“You’ll text me?”

“Yes, yes. I said I would. Get out of here.”

She throws herself at him before she leaves, arms wrapping around his neck and nearly strangling him with how tight she’s holding. He lets her, sinks into her hold in fact. The thing is, he’s going to miss her. Desperately. They’ll see one another again. Lucas will make sure of it but… it won’t be this… living and working in the same place, knowing the ins and outs of the other’s life, being one another’s confidante. Lucas knows he’s losing more than Eliott. It feels like losing family.

He rushes to pack the rest of his things quickly the moment Chloe is gone. The longer he takes, the more opportunity there is to run into people he knows as he leaves. He couldn’t even keep it together explaining to Chloe. If he has to tell anyone else, he might shatter completely. It’s as he’s shoving his clothing into his bag that he sees it. The shirt he’d borrowed from Eliott. Borrowed and never returned. After that night together in Eliott's room. Lucas doesn’t allow himself to mull over his actions, quickly slipping off the current sweatshirt and tee he wears and replacing it with Eliott’s, hanging loose over his chest and just a touch too tight on his arms. It thankfully takes no time to pack the rest of his belongings. It’s as he always intended – able to pack up and leave at a moment’s notice, never accruing any valuable he couldn’t leave behind. Well… all but one thing. And now… two. He looks at the items in his hands. The Princess Bride DVD. The copy from his mom. And… his vinyl. From Eliott. They never got a chance to listen to it. Eliott has said Lucas could use his room any time. Such total trust afforded. And Lucas… had thought there was time. He hadn’t been in any rush.

There’s no reason to take the vinyl. He has no record player. He’ll likely never be able to play it. There’s every reason to take the DVD. He leaves the DVD on the bed, tucks the vinyl under his arm, and leaves.

* * * *

* * * *

* * * *

The shelter has never felt less life home. For so many years it was the only home Lucas knew. It was the first place he’d ever felt truly safe. It was where he learned it was ok to be himself – that he wouldn’t be punished for doing so. It was where he learned he could defend himself – taken up boxing – and felt empowered in a way his smaller size and the violent presence of his father had never allowed. He hates that he doesn’t want to be here. He hates that somewhere else became home. _Someone_ else.

Alexia welcomed him with open arms of course. She’s always been good about offering comfort with few questions. He can tell she wants to ask – wants all the details, she’s as nosy as he is after all. But she accepts his curt ‘things didn’t work out’ and offers to clear out a room for him. He can’t take a room from a potential kid-in-need though. And a lumpy, uncomfortable couch with a spring digging right into his back is something he’s more than familiar with. He just needs a roof over his head and a chance to… he doesn’t even know what. Every time he starts to think about it, his breath comes short and panic clutches at his chest. His mom’s bills, the apprenticeship program, notifying Arthur… telling his friends… it’s overwhelming and too much to face. He just… needs a day. A day to wallow and let himself drown. Losing Eliott – it’s… all he can focus on. The rest has to wait.

The world, however, doesn’t seem to understand his need to disappear. Lucas’s phone buzzes endlessly with calls and text messages and he knows if he doesn’t deal with at least the immediate, the problems he’s refusing to face will only follow him here. Quite literally, if he knows his friends. With his stomach turning over with anxiety, Lucas pulls up what feel like the most critical. Yann first.

**_What the fuck am I hearing? You were fired?!!!_ **

Lucas swallows the feeling bubbling at the back of his throat. He didn’t just fuck everything up for himself. Yann put his own job on the line for Lucas. This is exactly what Lucas promised wouldn’t happen. He should have predicted it. Who was he kidding thinking he’d be able to stay away from Eliott? Keep it professional? Not fuck this up?

_I’m really sorry Yann. I fucked up. I don’t think they’ll blame you at all. The whole thing had nothing to do with you. Or even my job._

**_Lucas I don’t give a shit about that. What is going on? Talk to me._ **

_I just can’t right now, ok? I’m fine though. I’m with Alexia._

**_And Eliott?_ **

_Don’t blame him. This is on me. I’ll figure shit out. I always do._

**_I know you do. But it doesn’t always have to be alone. You can ask for help._ **

Lucas is suddenly viscerally reminded of his conversation with Eliott. Though it was just barely a conversation. The two of them curled together, Lucas wrapped around Eliott, scarcely allowing himself to acknowledge exactly how happy he’d been. How at peace. How Eliott had asked if he could help. How Lucas’s stomach hadn’t even dropped at the prospect. How easy it had been to say yes. To trust Eliott. And he hadn’t been wrong to do so. Eliott _had_ helped, in ways Lucas couldn’t have even imagined. Lucas can’t even regret it… letting Eliott in, letting him past the walls and becoming… dependent on him, in a way Lucas hasn’t allowed himself to be dependent on anyone. Not since he was thirteen. He should have known it would make the loss feel more gutting now. Maybe he did. But it hadn’t mattered. And anyways, Lucas would do it all again.

_Yeah. Thanks._

**_Please just keep me updated? Let me know where you are and how things are going?_ **

He knows Yann is trying to help. Yann has been a true friend for some of the most formidable years of Lucas’s life. And he’s stuck around despite the way Lucas has always kept him at a careful distance. His best friend… only so long as Lucas could live without him. Like everyone in Lucas’s life. Everyone… until now.

_Sure. I will._

He’ll try. Yann deserves at least that – knowing Lucas is ok. It’s a short and brief exchange and yet Lucas is wiped out by it. It feels like he loses a part of himself with every acknowledgement – that it’s really over. He manages to force himself to respond to Arthur before he calls it quits. Gossip will run rampant in the Palace, he knows. And while the prospect of everyone talking about him is nothing he’s happy to imagine, it also saves him from having to share the news himself. The fallout is a different story, but there’s time for that.

* * * *

“I’m taking a few of the kids out for lunch. Join?”

Lucas looks up at Alexia from where he’s remained immobile for the past three hours staring at his last text message exchange with Eliott the day prior. Before the Ball. Before… everything.

Lucas shakes his head in reply, dropping his eyes back to his phone. Alexia bends down over him to kiss him on the forehead.

“Alison is in the back office if you need anything.”

His eyes flick back to her in question and she sighs deeply.

“I introduced her like an hour ago when she started her shift.” She looks at him as though expecting recognition. Lucas has no memory of meeting someone. Alexia shakes her head with a slight eye roll, but she doesn’t look annoyed. “Whatever. She’s there if something comes up.” He nods. With one last halting look, she turns to go without another word. She won’t let him get away with being non-communicative and rude for long, but he appreciates the concessions she’s making for him for now.

Lucas pulls his t-shirt - Eliott's - up slightly to cover his face, hooking it over the top of his nose. He breathes in. All he can smell is himself. There’s no hint of Eliott. Nausea rolls through his stomach. He should eat something. He can’t remember the last time he ate and while food doesn’t hold even the slightest appeal, his body clearly won’t tolerate going without any longer. He rolls off the couch with an irritated groan. A few of the kids are milling about the main room when he walks through. He knows they’re all curious as to why Lucas has suddenly made home of the couch in the corner of the room meant for quiet reading, but he isn’t sure what he’d offer as an explanation. Thankfully kids in the shelter know better than to ask anyone what brought them to Alexia’s doorstep.

A raiding of the kitchen cupboards produces a pack of cookies. Likely only missed by the kids as it had been pushed to the back behind the tins of decaf coffee. They’re leftovers from their movie night – snacks courtesy of Eliott. Because of course. Lucas can’t even hunt for snacks without being reminded of Eliott with every fucking breath. He grabs the cookies spitefully, immediately digging in the bag and shoving one into his mouth. It’s utterly tasteless. He might as well be eating sawdust for all his brain is allowing him to experience but it’s food and it will fill his belly. He makes a note to replace them. He’s never liked eating food meant for the kids. And while he should be saving every single penny at the moment… well, he’s completely and totally fucked financially anyways. Buying some treats for the kids won’t change that.

He stops dead the moment he walks back into the main area. Niccolὸ is standing at the front entrance looking around the room curiously. The kids are watching him with equal interest, but no one has approached him.

“What are you doing here?” It’s rude as hell but it’s all that comes out. Niccolὸ doesn’t look offended. He’s smiles widely and walks towards Lucas.

“Eliott spoke so much about this place. I thought I would come see it for myself.”

“A youth shelter isn’t a circus sideshow for you to come gawk at.” Jesus fuck. The words just pour out, spiteful and angry. Lucas isn’t sure how to stop them.

Niccolὸ’s smile drops but not completely, merely gentling slightly as he takes on a more serious look. “Of course not. I apologize if my comment implied that.”

Lucas shrugs uncomfortably, looking down to fiddle with the bag of cookies in his hand. He doesn’t want to take anything out on Niccolὸ. Lucas just doesn’t have a great handle on his emotions at present apparently and well… Niccolὸ is there. An easy target. Lucas really is such an asshole. “It’s fine.”

“I also wanted to say goodbye. I leave today,” Niccolὸ explains.

“You wanted to say goodbye? To me?” Lucas asks incredulously, eyes flying back to Niccolὸ. If he were still at the Palace, he could understand. But the shelter is more than a little out of the way.

“Yes, of course,” Niccolὸ smiles kindly. He’s been… gentle… incredibly so. Lucas can’t help but wonder how much he knows. Just how much of a confidante of Eliott’s he's become. “I hope you will take me up on my offer to come visit Marti and I.”

“You still want me to visit?” Lucas eyes him warily. He doesn’t understand what Niccolὸ gets out of a friendship between them… why he’d ever want Lucas to visit. Especially now.

“Yes,” Niccolὸ grins. “I think introducing you and Marti would provide a great deal of entertainment.”

Lucas lets his mouth curl up into a tiny smile. “So that’s it, then? I’m just there for the entertainment. What exactly are you picturing? Marti and I leaping at one another’s throats at first sight?”

Niccolὸ laughs. “No, no. I imagine it would probably be more a battle of wits.” He tilts his head a little to the side as he looks at Lucas. “Until you both called a cease fire. Then you’d be friends.”

Lucas chuckles a little, surprised to hear the sound come from himself. “Yeah, likely story. I’m very threatened by people as witty as me, you know.”

“No truly, you would be friends!” Niccolὸ insists, smile wide. “And then Eliott and I will be in danger. I can’t imagine the trouble you and Marti would get into together… at our expense I’m sure.”

It guts Lucas immediately. So then Niccolὸ doesn’t know. That answers that question. Smile instantly dropping, Lucas turns away and walks back towards the corner occupied by his couch.

“I don’t think that’ll be a worry,” he calls back over his shoulder, projecting as much ease as he can but his voice shakes, nevertheless. “Eliott won’t be visiting with me.” Lucas collapses down on the couch. When he looks back up at Niccolὸ who has followed and sits down on the reading chair across from him, there’s no shock on Niccolὸ’s face. Lucas can’t read his expression.

“I ran into your friend, Lucille, as I left. She was quite angry. She mentioned you were no longer with the Palace.” It’s not a question – not a direct one anyways – but there’s a request in the way Niccolὸ says it, as though he’s asking Lucas to trust him enough to share what happened, should he want to do so.

It hurts to know Lucille is angry with him. She loves Eliott and god knows Lucas has provided reasons to feel protective and angry, but it hurts all the same. And yet something about Niccolὸ calms Lucas in a way he hasn’t felt since last night… before… everything. “Yeah.” Lucas clears his throat. “Eliott and I… um…” Emotions he really thought he’d cried out in Chloe’s arms clog his throat and Lucas desperately fights to swallow them back down. “I lied about some things. I thought – I thought it didn’t matter. Not anymore. It was about who I am – who I was… still am. I don’t know. I kept it from him. I thought who I am when we’re together was enough.” When Lucas looks up at Niccolὸ there’s understanding on his face. He nods a little, encouraging Lucas to continue. “But I don’t know… some things just refuse to stay hidden. And now he thinks… that I didn’t trust him. That I was deceiving him on purpose. That I…” His voice catches and inhales a shuddering breath. “That I don’t care. Or don’t care enough.”

Niccolὸ remains silent, eyes down and hands rubbing together as he seems to think. Lucas finds he’s shaking again. He pulls his hands into his lap to hide the tremor, staring down at them as he digs his nails into the palms to quell his anxiety. He shouldn’t have said all that. He shouldn’t have unloaded on Niccolὸ of all people. He barely even knows him. All Lucas has done is ensure one more person knows how badly he’s fucked up.

“I messed up pretty badly when Marti and I first got together,” Niccolὸ suddenly speaks. Lucas’s head snaps up in surprise. Niccolὸ smiles a little with a shrug. “Not just me. We both screwed up. But I definitely made things worse. Because I was scared. I was so scared that showing him who I was – who I was _completely_ – would mean I lost him. So, I kept a part of me a secret. Until I couldn’t anymore.”

“He found out?”

“Yes,” Niccolὸ admits with a small smile. “And I thought I’d lost him for good. I’d… never been that devastated. It felt like I’d lost the first person I’d ever loved. Like that. Like… I couldn’t live without him. Well I _could_. I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah,” Lucas pulls his lower lip into his mouth, eyes dropping back to his hands. “But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t,” Niccolὸ agrees. “I underestimated Marti. Underestimated his strength… and his love for me.”

Lucas can feel tears collecting in his eyes and blinks, looking back up to Niccolὸ so they won’t fall. “I’m glad.” He finds he means it. Even without knowing Marti, and only knowing Niccolὸ a little, he’s still truly happy they found one another. “It’s not like that for us though. Eliott and me.”

“No?” Niccolὸ’s expression doesn’t change – gentle, encouraging smile. He’s so fucking nice. Lucas will remember to be mad about it later. For now, it’s just… nice.

“No. It was always… too much. Too complicated. I don’t want –” Lucas takes a steadying breath. “I don’t want to need someone this much. And he doesn’t… need me like that. It was easier from a distance. Before. I didn’t have him. I knew I never would. But now… I don’t want to feel like this. I just want to go back. To before.”

“Yeah, I know.” Niccolὸ nods. “Can’t lose anything if you don’t risk anything.” Lucas looks away, out towards the main area of the room. “Except Eliott of course.” He wants to disagree. Protest that he’s already lost Eliott. Niccolὸ reads him as though he’s spoken the thought out loud. “You haven’t lost him. I doubt you even could. No matter how hard you try. Not if he’s as stubborn as Marti. And he is.” Niccolὸ makes it sound like it is Lucas walking away. But he didn’t. He isn’t. Eliott asked him to leave. It’s not the same. “There’s no going back, Lucas. Not with a love like this. Trust me. I would know.” He stands, moving towards Lucas, and reaches forward to squeeze his shoulder gently. “I’ll leave. I don’t mean to lecture.” Lucas wishes he could find it in himself to assure Niccolὸ, to thank him for caring. But the emotions swelling at the back of his throat have spilled over, sitting heavy on his tongue. He’s afraid of what he’d say. “It’s worth it though,” Niccolὸ continues gently. “The risk. It’s worth it.” Lucas had thought so. At one time. Laying in bed thinking about Eliott – thinking about _true love_. He’d thought so. Ridiculous.

“Nico,” Lucas calls after him as he walks to the door. Niccolὸ turns back to smile at him. “Thank you. I’m sorry I’m so…” He’s never been so ineloquent, and exhales frustrated with himself. “Just… I hope you and Marti are really happy together.”

Niccolὸ smiles brightly. “I’m still sending you an invitation to the wedding.” He leaves with an endearing little wave that Lucas just manages to return.

It takes Lucas another few minutes to identify the feeling left in the air lingering behind. It’s envy. It’s a selfish, stupid thing to feel, but its involuntary and it grips him tightly. He envies Niccolὸ. So much it chokes him. Nico and Marti are in love. Mutual love. His future with Marti is right there waiting for him. It’s easy to talk about risk when yours has already paid off.

* * * *

* * * *

It’s late in the evening, everyone having long since gone to sleep, Lucas once again unable to achieve more than a light doze before jerking awake, that he hears someone rummaging around in the kitchen. There are strict rules about when the kids are allowed to use the kitchen facilities, and the middle of the night is definitely not approved kitchen-time.

He’s not particularly interested in busting anyone on a late-night mission for snacks, but the thought of not being alone with his thoughts any longer is appealing enough to have him rolling off the couch and making his way to the kitchen.

When he enters it’s to the sight of Emily half-kneeling on the counter in an attempt to gain enough height to reach something on the highest shelf of the cupboard.

“Need some help?”

She startles at the sound of his voice, wobbling precariously before catching herself and turning to look at him over her shoulder.

“How are you going to help? You’re barely taller than me.”

“Yeah,” he tries for a slight smile. “There’s a step ladder in the pantry.”

She turns to look at him again, eyebrows pulled together as she scrutinizes him before she returns to her task. “I’m fine. I don’t need any help.” She successfully gets her fingers on whatever she’s pursuing, sending it tumbling down to the counter. Lucas moves to snatch it up before Emily is able to jump down to do so herself.

“Hey!” She cries hopping off the counter. “That’s mine!”

“It’s everyone’s actually,” Lucas points out as he turns the block of chocolate over in his hands. It looks like what Eliott brought him back from his ski trip. When they’d sat on the gym mats together and Lucas had admitted he didn’t like relying on anyone or asking for help… when he admitted he’d done so anyways because it had been _Eliott_. It had been right before they’d gone to the pool and –

“It’s not!” Emily protests loudly, voice thankfully cutting through his internal reminiscing. “Eliott gave it to me.”

Lucas looks up in surprise. “Eliott did?”

“Yes.” Emily’s eyes narrow as though she’s expecting Lucas to accuse her of lying and she’s already preparing her argument.

“When was this?”

She crosses her arms defensively. “I don’t know. Last week. He brought everyone a bunch of food, but he gave _me_ that chocolate.” She looks down at it in Lucas’s hands pointedly. “Alexia doesn’t allow us food in the rooms. I hid it so no one else would get into it. But it’s _mine_.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He holds it out for her. She’s slow to grab it back, looking at him suspiciously.

Lucas turns back to the cupboards. Thoughts he’d hope he could silence if only for a few minutes suddenly roar back to life inside his head.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What?” He asks confused, glancing back to her.

“You’re being weird.” She’s watching him carefully, a perfect mix of curiosity and annoyance on her face.

“How am I being weird?”

“You’re being all… nice.” She waves a hand in front of her as though to suggest this change is reflected on him physically.

Lucas exhales what was meant to be a laugh but doesn’t quite capture any humour. “I’m always nice.”

“No but you’re… you’re normally funnier.”

“You think I’m funny?” It draws a genuine smile from him, and Emily immediately rolls her eyes.

“Sometimes,” she admits with a sigh. “Mostly you’re just annoying. Right now, you’re not even that. What’s wrong with you?”

Lucas shrugs and turns to pull the hot chocolate mix from the cupboard. “Just dealing with some shit.”

“Is it about Eliott? Is that why you’re here?”

The way his body immediately tenses, and he freezes in his movements is answer enough.

“Did you break up?” Her voice has gone a lot quieter and Lucas can only imagine the way she’s jumping to conclusions about never seeing Eliott again.

“We weren’t ever together. Not really.” He reaches for a couple mugs, refusing to look at the disappointment on her face.

“Yeah, I know. But like, you’re in love so eventually you would be.” She says it in the tone of a typical teenage huff – as though she’s explaining something incredibly simple to a dumb adult who just doesn’t get it.

“We weren’t in love.” It hurts to even say the words.

“You don’t have to treat me like I’m dumb. I’m not a little kid. I know you were fucking.”

Lucas cringes. “Don’t say it like that. It sounds wrong coming from your mouth. And sleeping together doesn’t mean someone’s in love. If you’re so mature, you already know that.” She smiles at little. It’s not at all the reaction he was expecting. “What?” He asks confused.

“You’re being a jerk again,” she replies with a slight shrug.

“And that is a good thing?” What the fuck even is this child?

“Rather that than you acting all weird and nice.” She raises an eyebrow as though daring him to disagree.

“You are a weird kid.” It’s an understatement.

“You’re way weirder,” she scoffs. “Bet Eliott even _loves_ that about you.”

“Jesus. You are such a brat.” Is this what people have to put up with when dealing with him? He feels a sudden need to apologize to all his friends. “And what about your big ol’ crush on him? Shouldn’t you hate me right now?” He means for it to throw her off, but she looks annoyingly unruffled.

“Please. When we watched the movie, he stared at you the entire time. I can take a hint.” She says it as though she would have had a serious chance with Eliott otherwise. It’s somehow incredibly charming.

Lucas snorts. “I don’t think he meant that as a hint directed at you.”

“I know. He just couldn’t stop staring at you. Because he loves you.” She looks so goddamn smug.

“You’re really annoying.” And yet Lucas feel lighter than he has all day.

“Well you’re the one who loves me anyways so really, who’s the stupid one here?” It is the absolute cheekiest thing she could say and yet there’s an undercurrent of insecurity in her tone. Lucas only recognizes it because, well… he knows that trick.

“Guess I do,” he agrees reaching forward to ruffle her hair until she smacks his hand away. “So, what do you say you take that,” he points at the bar in her hands, “go pick out a movie, and I’ll make the hot chocolate? One can never have enough chocolate.”

“Yeah?” She’s trying to reign in her happy reaction, but it shines through anyways.

He nods. “Pick something good though. If it has one of the Chris’s in it, I automatically approve.”

“Ok!” She skips to leave the kitchen and Lucas turns back to the counter to prepare the drinks. “Um, Lucas?”

“Mmm?” He hums without turning around.

“I’m sorry for like, what I said that night. When I yelled at you.” Her voice wavers with uncertainty and he turns to see she’s looking down at the ground, twisting the bar of chocolate nervously in front of her. “I didn’t mean it or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he comforts with what he hopes is a reassuring smile as her eyes travel up to meet his own. “I deserved it anyways.”

Her eyebrows pull together. “No, you didn’t.” She flops her hands at her sides in frustration. “It’s just – I really like it here. And I don’t know… you just make it better or whatever.” _Or whatever_. He smiles. He’ll take it. “I was just freaking out and you are like the one person who fixes stuff for me so like… yeah.” She shrugs looking back down at the floor.

He wasn’t even expecting it and yet it’s the best possible apology Lucas has ever been given. “Thanks kid. Now get out of here before I start weeping.”

She scoffs, just as he knew she would. “You are so annoying.” And with a stomp of her foot and an eye roll she leaves for the TV room. 

They end up watching _Deadpool_ and while it doesn’t include a Chris, it does have Ryan Reynolds and they both agree that is a more than acceptable trade-off. And finally, _finally_ Lucas is able to sleep. Warm and cozy with Emily tucked cuddling into his side, his thoughts allow him a moment of peace and he sinks into a blissful unconsciousness.

And it’s not ok. None of it is ok. It won’t be ok tomorrow either. But it’s enough. For now, it’s enough.

* * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It all goes up from here I promise! Next chapter, next weekend! 
> 
> My tumblr: surrealsunday
> 
> As an aside - the reactions to the chapters lately have been pretty epic and I can't thank you all enough for all the enthusiasm, yelling, love, and support... and maybe a little more yelling. I love you all.
> 
> One more thing I forgot to add originally: The quote Lucas and his mom use is from the Princess Bride novel. They slightly edit it. The original quote is, "Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches."


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to say about this chapter except... you deserve it (did that sound mildly threatening to you too? I swear I mean it in a good way!)... and I hope you like it! 
> 
> Chapter heading graphic courtesy of Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr)! <3

* * * * 

Lucas stares at his phone incredulous. What the fuck?! How could Eliott be telling his lawyer to move forward in helping Lucas after… everything? Lucas’s stomach clenches with anxiety as another thought occurs to him. He quickly pulls up the number of his mom’s home. A quick conversation confirms it. His mother’s care has been arranged through the new year whether the Power of Attorney situation is resolved or not. God fucking dammit. Truly just… _goddamn Eliott_. For his stupid generous heart and his stupid fairy-tale Prince complex. He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to kick Lucas from his life but continue to be such an integral part of it. He doesn’t get to break Lucas’s heart while continuing to save him in every other way. It’s just…

Lucas turns and punches a pillow. He desperately wishes he could go to the gym right now – train with Idriss – kick the crap out of one another until he can’t remember what made him angry in the first place. Yet another thing he’s lost. Meanwhile Eliott is just going about continuing to fix all of Lucas’s problems like it’s nothing… like it was never anything more than him being a kind and generous person. Which brings Lucas to… the apprenticeship program. He’d assumed it wouldn’t continue. How could it when it was Lucas’s idea and hinged on him teaching the mechanics trade? Eliott wouldn’t… would he? He wouldn’t just continue the program and replace Lucas. If he did though, is that even something Lucas can be mad about? It’s a wonderful opportunity for the kids. It was never supposed to be about Eliott and Lucas. He should be thrilled if Eliott has decided to keep the program despite Lucas’s absence. Instead, the thought alone feels worse than a backhand across the face courtesy of his father.

Lucas had been avoiding bringing it up with Alexia – avoiding even thinking about it – too afraid of what an incredible disappointment it would be; the potential extraordinary opportunity for the kids lost, and all because of Lucas. Apparently, he’d been worrying for nothing. Eliott has it sorted. Without Lucas.

He pushes aside the pain that comes with the realization and focuses on the anger instead. He needs to train. Without a gym down the hallway. Without Idriss. He just… needs to punch something and the shelter’s paltry excuse for equipment won’t do. There’s a boxing gym he’d gone to once before. Admission to the facilities was too expensive for him to ever justify going again. But now, even minus one job, his expenses have apparently been cut in half thanks to Eliott swooping in to save the fucking day.

It’s cold when he steps outside. There’s a biting chill to the air and it immediately sinks to his bones. Lucas has never had a particularly good heavy jacket. One of the many reasons he hates winter. It’s a far more challenging time for the shelter as well. Alexia always ends up at capacity and there is nothing worse than having to turn kids seeking shelter away, particularly on a cold night. Alexia has been known to set up the downstairs common rooms as a makeshift campground on such nights, with mats, sleeping bags, and blankets on every available surface. It’s the sort of business practice that would result in serious penalties or potential shut-down if she was ever caught in the act… but it’s never stopped her. Lucas knows she’d rather fight tool-and-nail to defend her choices than turn a kid away on a cold night. Lucas can’t continue taking up one of the couches with the weather turning like this. He can’t drag his feet any longer. Yann would take him in, Lucas knows he would, despite the potential financial cost by his asshole corrupt landlord. He can’t do that to Yann. There’s no place for him.

Lucas takes it out on the bag. He feels weaker than he ever has before. He’s in the best condition of his life. He knows that. One day doesn’t change that. But the stress has apparently taken its toll. His punches connect but they’re weak and apathetic. And it’s… boring. It’s not the outlet he was hoping. He trains for hours anyways. If nothing else he’s determined to exhaust himself. He doesn’t feel even remotely better. It usually takes no time at all for endorphins to flood his veins, for that workout high to hit him and put all his worries in perspective. Instead, today it feels like he’s standing in front of an inanimate object expecting it to start talking and provide answers – looking for something he’ll never find. And he misses training with Idriss. It’s another loose end Lucas hasn’t wanted to contemplate. Will Idriss hate him too when he finds out the truth? Like Lucille must? He’d noticed texts from Idriss earlier but had refused to open them.

With a sigh Lucas unwinds his hand wraps, making his way to the locker room. He showers quickly, scrubbing over his skin harshly, ignoring the soothing heat of the water pounding down on him. He pulls his phone from his pocket as he walks back into the foyer and towards the main doors. His notifications are flooded with messages from his friends. It’s sweet. Lucas truly appreciates how much they care. He just… can’t deal with it all right now. There are no messages from Eliott. He didn’t expect any of course. He just maybe hoped. Ignoring the disappointment sitting heavy in the space behind his ribs, Lucas opens Idriss’s messages.

Lucas stares at the message uncomprehending. What does he mean Eliott is gone? _Gone?!_ Lucas grabs his coat and rushes to put it on as he jogs for the door. He’s calling Idriss before he even reaches the sidewalk.

 _“Fucking finally,”_ Idriss says picking up at the first ring. He sounds distant and he’s got Lucas on speaker. He’s likely driving.

“What the fuck, Idriss?! What do you mean he’s gone?” Lucas rushes down the sidewalk only to stop abruptly. He has no fucking idea where he’s going. Where the fuck is he supposed to go without knowing where Eliott is?

“ _Exactly what I said. He left after – after a conversation with Lucille.”_ Idriss sighs, clear even through the distance of the phone line. _“So he’s not with you.”_ Idriss knows the answer, he speaks it as a statement, but Lucas answers him anyways.

“Of course not! Why the fuck would he be with me? Why did he even leave?” Lucas’s head spins with possibilities. Where would Eliott go? The library was supposed to be his safe space. Nausea sweeps over Lucas as he realizes it’s unlikely that’s still the case. Eliott’s safe space, his refuge, is tainted for him now. Thanks to Lucas.

“ _Because he wants to be with you, you asshole!_ ” Idriss yells. “ _Jesus, you two are the most fucking stupid_.”

“You don’t get it, Idriss.” Lucas threads a hand through his hair, tugging in frustration. “You don’t know what happened. Eliott wanted me gone. He’s not coming after me.”

“ _He didn’t want you gone! Fuck. He needed two seconds to think and you fucking bailed._ ”

“That’s not – no.” Bailed? Lucas didn’t. That’s not how it happened. Lucas would never have left Eliott… not if there had been any chance to make things right. “He didn’t want me there. He said he didn’t want me there.”

“ _Listen, I don’t know what the fuck he said or how wrongly you interpreted it_ ,” Idriss says, not entirely unkind. “ _All I know is that he flipped the fuck out when he found out you were gone_.”

“What?” Why would Eliott… Lucas doesn’t understand. Maybe he wouldn’t have expected Lucas to react so quickly but honestly what the fuck did he think was going to happen?!

“ _How can you think he doesn’t want you, Lucas? Seriously?! He was fucked up the night of the ball. I know. And yeah maybe he was confused about some shit, but he was never confused about you – how he feels about you. Why the fuck do I have to tell you this?! You should know!_ ”

No. _No._ None of this can be true. None of this can be true because it would mean Lucas gave up when Eliott hadn’t. He can’t bear the thought. “No that’s not – I betrayed him – betrayed his trust. He couldn’t forgive me. The way he looked at me… he’d made up his mind.”

“ _So you messed up. You really think he’d bail just because of that? When he finally had you? You’re right. He made up his mind about you pretty much the moment he met you. You bailed. You left._ ” The words cut into him like broken glass.

“Not because I didn’t want him!” Lucas shouts into the quiet night. “I was trying to do the right thing. What he asked of me!”

“ _Well now we need to find his stupid, romantic ass_.” Idriss voice is calm but determined. A direct contrast to the panic Lucas feels coursing through him. It helps calm him. Allows him to steady his breath and think. “ _I can’t involve anyone else without his mother being alerted. We have to find him before this gets anymore serious. Where would he go? I thought the shelter, but if he’s not with you…_ ”

“Hold on,” Lucas pulls the phone away from his ear to put it on speaker. “I’m not there. I was training. I’ll text Alexia.” He types out a quick, _Is Eliott at the shelter?_

“ _You trained without me?_ ” Idriss asks offended. “ _I am so kicking your ass the second I see you. Can’t believe this shit…_ ”

Lucas expels a breath resembling humour. “I thought of you the whole time.”

Idriss snorts. “ _Fucking dick_.”

**_He was. I told him to wait for you but he wouldn’t. I’m not sure where he went. I’m sorry._ **

“Idriss,” Lucas’s voice falters, “he left the shelter. Alexia doesn’t know where he went. Fuck. _Fuck_.” Eliott really came for him. He came for him and Lucas wasn’t there.

“ _Shit. Where would he go? If he wanted to find you? Where would he go_?”

Lucas brings the phone back to his ear as he begins jogging back in the direction of the shelter. “I don’t fucking know. God, I’m going to kill him.”

“ _Yeah, well, you can get in line._ ”

It’s cold and dark, and this is in no way an area of town the Royal Prince should be meandering aimlessly. Lucas thinks of the first night he’d seen Eliott – how he’d decided Eliott wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes without Lucas’s interference and help.

“I’m going back to the shelter. I’ll start looking from there on foot.” It’s all he can think to do. If Eliott had just waited for him there, but _noooooo,_ he’s got to take to the streets to save Lucas, to play out whatever dumbass fairy-tale Prince imaginings are currently driving him.

“ _Alright,_ ” Idriss agrees. “ _I’m going to do a grid of the streets by car. You call me the second you find him. I’ll do the same_.”

“Yep.” Lucas hangs up. Idriss won’t take any offense. Anyways, Lucas can’t waste energy talking. He picks up the pace to a near sprint, scanning the streets as he goes but there’s no sign of Eliott. The hour is late and there’s not much sign of _anyone_ out on the streets. It makes Lucas even more nervous. Eliott will stand out. An easy target. The second he turns the corner and the shelter comes in sight, Lucas’s pace immediately slows. _What the fuck?!_ The Jag sits directly outside the front doors. _The Jag._ Gleaming in the moonlight it could not look more out of place with the shelter forming the dilapidated backdrop. Did Eliott drive? There’s no other option as far as Lucas can imagine. God, he’s going to _murder_ Eliott.

Lucas bursts through the front doors of the shelter. Alexia is sitting with a few kids at one of the front tables in the common space. Everyone looks up at his entrance. Alexia immediately shakes her head in answer to the question Lucas hasn’t found breath to ask. No, Eliott hasn’t come back.

“Call me if he does.”

Alexia nods and Lucas immediately turns, rushing back out into the cold night air. All he can think to do is go to places Eliott knows. Lucas starts with the street the vendors set-up on before making his way to the pub they’d had dinner in that first night. Nothing. Worse yet, it feels like an excruciating trip down memory lane. He can’t help but wonder who was playing with fate that night. Lucas has never been one to subscribe to such thought. Blaming fate or some higher power in any way but jest, has always seemed like a cop-out to him. People are responsible for their actions; if you want something to happen, then you need to _make_ it happen. And yet, as he thinks back to that night, he has to admit finding Eliott again felt far more epic – far more important – than a simple coincidence. That night he’d decided to wander the streets as he sometimes did, on the watch for any of his kids in trouble, any kids he hadn’t yet met who would benefit from an introduction to Alexia… and instead he’d found Eliott. Someone he’d never in a million years thought he’d see again. At least not in person. And certainly not in need of Lucas’s help. He’d so desperately stamped down the surge of emotion that had come with realizing who the guy in the fancy clothes had been, looking so entirely out of place despite his attempts to disguise himself. He’d told himself he’d only help him out of a tough spot. He couldn’t _not_. And then he’d move on and Eliott would be none-the-wiser. Even then, Lucas thinks he knew better. He’s never been able to walk away from Eliott. Well… until now. The one time he shouldn’t have. Lucas had given up. He’d thought he was being respectful of Eliott’s wishes when really it had been cowardice. Fear of how deeply he’d fallen. Fear that it wasn’t mutual. That he had far more to lose. It chokes him now. The thought that Eliott is without him… _because_ of him. That he’s out there somewhere defenseless, without even his phone, all because he’d made the opposite choice. He’d run _to_ Lucas while Lucas had been running away.

Lucas finds himself in front of The Florin. He sees Leon the moment he walks through the door. Leon brightens, hopping off the stool he’d been sitting on as he chatted with another doorman and smiling as he approaches Lucas.

“Lucas, hey!” He claps a hand to the spot where Lucas’s neck meets his shoulder, squeezing affectionately. It’s overly familiar. Nothing unusual between them. Hell, it’s G-rated as far as their relationship goes and yet everything about it feels wrong. Lucas shakes his hand off as subtly as he can manage, stepping back slightly. Leon’s smile drops and he purses his lips. “Not here for pleasure then?”

“Have you seen Eliott. The – the guy I was with last time?” There’s no point in beating around the bush. There’s no time either.

“Mmm,” Leon hums with an amused smile. “Could have guessed this was about him.”

Lucas’s heart skips a beat. “He’s here?”

“Was,” Leon corrects. “Looking for you. Came and went. Sorry.”

“Fuck.” He’s always two steps behind Eliott. It feels like some sort of dark-humoured metaphor. “How long ago?”

Leon shrugs. “Not that long. Read me the riot act he did. Seemed like such a perfect posh boy when I saw him with you, eh? Guess not.”

“What?” Lucas asks confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t think he likes me much,” Leon chuckles a little, amused by the fact. “Or he just doesn’t like sharing you.”

“He’s not sharing me.” It’s an automatic response. Not one Lucas especially thinks about. Leon’s eyebrow twitches in response.

“Yeah. Guess not.” He doesn’t look particularly upset about it. “Didn’t think you were the boyfriend type.”

“I’m not. Or – I wasn’t.”

“‘Til him.”

Lucas shrugs. “We’re not. Or – not really. I don’t know.” He exhales a breath of frustration. “It’s complicated. What did he say to you?”

“Told me to keep my hands to myself.” Leon chuckles. “Said you were his boy.”

“He – what?” Lucas can’t even fathom it. Eliott… just… _what?_

“Guess it’s not that complicated for him, hunh?” Leon smirks. “Got right up in my face about it.”

Lucas cannot even imagine it. Leon is… an intimidating man to square off against. The thought of Eliott doing so… for _Lucas_ …

“Jesus. You’re fuckin’ smitten, hunh? Smiling like a love-sick puppy.”

Lucas looks back up at Leon. He hadn’t even realized he was smiling. He immediately schools his face, doing his best to frown in reply. “Fuck off.”

Leon laughs. “Eh, it’s nice.” He reaches forward to pinch Lucas on the cheek and only gets away with it because Lucas is a little distracted by the thoughts running wild in his head. “Suits you.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Lucas rolls his eyes. “Did you see what way he went?”

“Sorry.” Leon shakes his head. Lucas nods a little defeated and turns to leave. Leon grabs his arm, pulling him back. “You make sure he treats you right, yeah?”

“Stop with the chivalrous act. It doesn’t suit you,” Lucas scoffs.

“What can I say? You bring it out in me.” He grins. “And hey,” he adds with a raised eyebrow, “you tell that boy of yours, next time he gets in my face like that, I’m laying him flat.”

Lucas can’t help the laugh that bursts from him. “Yeah. I’ll pass on the message.”

* * * *

Lucas shivers as he steps back out into the night air. There’s a mix of opposing emotions filling his chest. He feels exhilarated. Eliott told off Leon for Lucas. _Leon_. Eliott said Lucas was his boy. It has Lucas’s blood singing in his veins. And yet… hopelessness battles with the feeling. He still hasn’t found Eliott. It’s only getting colder, and the risks of him being out and alone and looking like a perfect target, get even greater with each passing minute.

There’s one more place, Lucas realizes with startling clarity. It’s the worst possible idea. _Of-fucking-course_ Eliott would go there. He starts running immediately. It’s thankfully close. Lucas wastes no time, bolting down the alleyway and quickly making his way through the dilapidated building until he reaches the central courtyard. A few bonfires fill the area, people crowded around them to stay warm.

Lucas scans the space, gasping for air as his heart rate slows, until he sees Mary. She notices him at the same time, smiling and with a roll of her eyes leaving the fire to approach him.

“Finally. Took you long enough.”

“Is he here?”

Mary nods and a flood of relief nearly brings Lucas to his knees. He’s here. Eliott. “He wanted to keep searching the night for your ass. Kept going on an on about how he promised he’d find you. God only knows why he wants to,” she adds with a snort. “Convinced him to hang here instead. Knew you’d show up eventually.”

Lucas’s eyes search the courtyard. “Where?”

“Well he doesn’t get to stay without making himself useful. Sent him for snacks.” Mary shrugs with no concern for the way her words have just spiked fury in Lucas’s veins.

“You sent him back out there? Because you wanted fucking snacks?!”

“Oh calm down,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Sent him with Henry. He’ll be fine. They just went to the corner. Relax.”

Lucas takes a deep breath, grinding his teeth and doing his best to convince himself murdering Mary is not the solution. “Mary, I swear to god –”

_“Hey, farm boy.”_

Lucas’s breath is robbed from him at the sound of his voice. He wheels around and there he is. Eliott. Standing with his lower lip pulled into his mouth, shoulders collapsed, anxiety written clear across his face.

“Snacks!” Mary squeals moving towards Eliott while Lucas remains frozen. Eliott hands the bag over with a quick smile directed at her before his eyes flick back to Lucas nervously.

And Lucas just… doesn’t know what to do with the flood of emotions rushing through him. They all collide in a frenzy, none of them distinguishable from the others, all of them vibrant, bright, and overwhelming. Lucas moves forward, latching onto Eliott’s arm and dragging him along as he moves back through the building.

Lucas can hear Mary yelling ‘Rude!’ behind them but doesn’t slow his pace. Eliott stumbles beside him as Lucas moves down the hall towards the darker depths of the building. The hall glows with reflections of the fires from the central courtyard, casting ominous shadows.

“Lucas!” Eliott pulls his arm from Lucas’s hold, forcing them both to a stop. Lucas refuses to look at him, staring towards the room leading out and into the alley. “Please just… stop.” He makes a pained sound, somewhere caught between anxiety and frustration. “Talk to me.”

“Talk to you?!” Lucas swings around to face him. “Talk to you?!!!” He moves forward, shoving roughly at Eliott’s shoulders. Eliott stumbles back slightly, more out of surprise than force. “Are you fucking serious?!”

“Yes!” Eliott yells back, the way his voice wavers the only indication he’s less confident than he’d like Lucas to believe. “Talk to me. Why is that so weird? Why are you yelling?”

“You are so –” Lucas waves a hand in the air, the words not coming. “I can’t believe you! And you just –” He shoves Eliott again, pushing at his chest this time. But his arms and resolve are weak. Eliott barely moves. “I hate this! I can’t even think!” Another shove. “You make me –” Lucas pulls his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “And I don’t know what to do!” He reaches for Eliott again, not sure whether he intends to push or pull but it doesn’t matter. Eliott intercepts him, grabbing Lucas’s wrists and pushing him backwards until they collide with the wall.

Lucas doesn’t fight it and Eliott’s movements are forceful and determined. It’s easy for Lucas to hand himself over to them. Eliott presses Lucas’s wrists up against the wall beside his head, falling forward and pressing their foreheads together. Lucas squeezes his eyes shut, goosebumps breaking out across his skin at the contact.

“What –” Eliott’s breath is hot and fast against Lucas’s lips. “Why are you so mad?”

Lucas let’s out a puff of laughter, choked by emotion and too angry for it to carry any humour. “You could have been hurt. You could have–” Lucas’s voice breaks obviously and Eliott’s hands tighten on his wrists. “Why did you do it?” Lucas swallows, blinking open his eyes, desperate to control the emotion in his voice but losing the battle. “Why did you come after me?”

“Because it’s you,” Eliott whispers. His hands release Lucas’s wrists, moving to cradle his face. He rubs their noses together in a gentle caress. “Because I love you.”

 _I love you_. The words wrap around Lucas slowly… comforting and soft… foreign… and totally and utterly terrifying. “You asshole!” Lucas yells, struggling halfheartedly, knocking Eliott’s hands from his face as he shoves at his chest. “You fucking dick!” But Eliott has become an immovable object and he doesn’t allow Lucas to create space between them. “You can’t say that! You can’t! You don’t!”

As Lucas loses the will to struggle, he grips the lapels of Eliott’s jacket tightly instead. Eliott’s hands move back to his face, thumbs brushing against Lucas’s cheeks and collecting the moisture he finds there. Lucas hadn’t realized he was crying. “Why?” Eliott asks gently, gaze piercing as he stares at Lucas, features blurred by proximity and the tears that refuse to subside. “Why can’t I?”

“Because,” Lucas begins, voice pitiful and broken, “I can’t.”

Eliott’s comforting motions freeze. It’s as though he’s holding his breath until he speaks, voice less confident now, fear laced around ever syllable. “Can’t what? What can’t you do?”

Lucas’s hands move from the lapel of Eliott’s jacket to slide underneath, tightening on the soft material he finds covering Eliott’s chest. “Love like this. I can’t. I can’t need you like this. I feel like I’m dying.” A sob breaks from his throat and he swallows it back down. “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t. You haven’t.” Eliott pulls his head back to more clearly look Lucas in the eyes. “You aren’t ever going to lose me. Do you hear me? I love you.”

Lucas shuts his eyes, attempting to turn his head away. Eliott won’t allow him, grip tight on Lucas’s face holding it in place. “No. Look at me. Lucas, look at me.” Lucas opens his eyes reluctantly. A small smile grows on Eliott’s face. “You’re so stubborn. I love that too.”

“Stop.” Lucas drops his eyes to Eliott’s neck, focusing on the tiny mole he finds decorating the skin.

“No. I won’t.” Eliott’s voice has gained strength, and he speaks with newfound confidence. “I’ll say it again and again. All the time. Forever. How ever many times you need to hear. I love you. I love you, Lucas. I am so in love with you I feel it’s in everything I do, in every word, every touch, every thought, laid bare for anyone to see. I’ve never wanted anyone else. Only you.”

“But you didn’t want me. You wanted me gone.”

“I never wanted you gone.”

“You did,” Lucas insists, and he hates the way tears are present even in the tone of his voice. “You said. I only left because you asked.”

“No, I know.” Eliott’s hand moves up to brush gently through Lucas’s hair. “I’m sorry. I never thought – I just didn’t think. When I’m with you, I only want you. I want to be selfish. And I knew I couldn’t anymore. Not when my mom – with what she did. What your father did. I couldn’t drag my feet anymore. I wasn’t going to be led – not anymore. And I needed time to figure it out… not how I felt about you. Never that. I was mad. And confused. And I thought finding out about you changed things. But it didn’t change the way I love you. Not even for a second.”

“But it did,” Lucas argues, looking back to stubbornly meet Eliott’s eyes. “You said you didn’t know me anymore. That I didn’t trust you. I’d deceived you and you didn’t – you wanted me to leave you alone.”

Eliott inhales a shuddering breath. “I know. God, Lucas, I’m so sorry. I was so stupid. I thought I was standing out on a ledge all by myself ready to jump. I thought you were hiding, refusing to stand with me, when really, you’d already leapt. You risked something every day. You’d shown me that in a million different ways. You took every risk alongside me but when you’d always had so much more to lose. When you’d _already_ lost so much. Over and over again. When I asked you to leave me alone, I never meant forever. I never meant for you to leave.”

“But…” Even if Lucas hadn’t left… “I was fired. Your mom… and I had to…”

“I know,” Eliott interrupts, jaw tight with tension. His hands slide down to Lucas’s neck, resting gently on either side. “The order never went through. Arthur came to me. I would never allow it, Lucas. I should have known she’d… I just wasn’t thinking. Everything happened so fast. And then you were gone…”

Eliott’s eyes flood with emotion, wet with tears not yet fallen, and one hand moves to Lucas’s face, thumb tracing the line of Lucas’s eyebrow until trails down, beneath the cut on Lucas’s face, gentle across the skin.

“When I heard you left it was like… my heart was ripped from my chest. I’ve never felt something like that before. And that hollow space left… nothing could fill it. And I thought of you… feeling the same, thinking I didn’t want you. I’ve never been so terrified. All of this… it’s scary for me too. It is. I’m terrified. When I thought I’d lost you…” He closes his eyes for a moment, hands shaking where they hold Lucas. “I’m scared to need someone like this too. But denying it won’t change anything.” Lucas knows he’s right. He’s never been able to deny the way he feels about Eliott. The only thing he’s ever been able to do is silence the internal voice screaming it. But even then, it was still there, pulsing with every heartbeat, pumping through his veins, as vital and present as breathing. “Please, Lucas. Please say I’m right. That you’re… you’re here too. With me. That I’m not alone. If you’re not… if I’m wrong… I’ll let you go. It will kill me, but I’ll do it. I only want you to be happy.”

It’s worth the risk. Lucas thought it before. He’d thought it and regretted it later. But he’d been right. He’d always been right. That first night, he’d known what he was doing. He’d known there was no turning back, no matter how hard he’d tried to deny it. He’d known it just as he had at thirteen, inexperienced, giddy and terrified all at once. He’d taken the risk both times because there was no other option… not when its Eliott. And it’s not fate. It never has been. It’s always been a choice. A choice Lucas has been making his entire life. He’d do it all again. All of it. As long as it meant this… choosing Eliott one more time. For the last time. The risk suddenly doesn’t seem so scary, not when the reward is Eliott. All of him. All of them both. Together.

“Eliott, I’ve been in love with you since I was thirteen years old. Before I even understood what it meant.” He inhales a shaky breath. “And then I lost you. And I lost my mom. And I forgot what it felt like. Until I found you again. I don’t know what to do with it. It’s too much. It’s like it’s filling every part of me – like I’m full to overflowing. I’ve never loved anyone like this. Like you.” Eliott’s eyes are wide and amazed and Lucas needs to touch him. He moves a hand to Eliott’s face, rubbing his thumb along Eliott’s jaw line, pressing into the skin he finds there, prickly with stubble. “When I saw you – that night – it was all real again. And I couldn’t let it be. I couldn’t tell you because then it was… everything I felt… everything I’d wanted for so long… suddenly it was real again. And I didn’t want to… want it. But you were just there. Better than I remembered. So much better. And the feelings were so much _more_.” Lucas looks into Eliott’s eyes, lets the truth of his words shine through, no longer hiding. “Eliott, what I felt then, as a kid – so fucking in love with this idea of what we could be – it’s nothing like the reality of it. Being with you, falling in love with you like this, getting to know you, letting you know me… it’s better than I ever imagined it could be. I’ve only ever wanted you. I still only want you. That will never change. I love you. I love you. _I love you.”_

Lucas would probably continue, drunk off saying it out loud, if it weren’t for Eliott pushing into his space and connecting their lips. Lucas responds immediately, with all the pent-up desperation built over weeks… months… years. He rises on his tiptoes and throws his arms around Eliott’s shoulders, body soft and lax as Eliott’s arms wrap around him, pulling them tightly together. It feels like the first time, like it did when he was thirteen and couldn’t believe he’d gotten so lucky, like nothing in the world could be better than kissing Eliott. Like nothing was ever going to be the same. He can say with confidence, thirteen-year-old Lucas knew what he was about.

“Eliott,” Lucas gasps against his lips. There’s so much he wants to say, so much he’s never allowed himself before, so many words suppressed over years, and yet now all he can manage is that one. “ _Eliott_.”

Eliott presses him to the wall, lining up their bodies in a way that feels way, _way_ too good considering they’re in a place Lucas has to admit smells strongly of mildew and general decay.

“I love you,” Eliott mumbles against Lucas’s lips, refusing to separate them completely. He dives in for another hard kiss, slumping slightly to align their hips as he presses up and into Lucas.

“ _Oh god_ ,” Lucas groans, biting at Eliott’s lower lip in retaliation.

“I–” Another wet kiss. “I _fucking_ love you.”

Lucas’s hips immediately and involuntarily grind up against Eliott. “Fuck.” Lucas pushes Eliott back only enough to press a hand over his mouth. “Shut up.” He can feel Eliott’s smile grow beneath his hand. “You are such an asshole.”

The second he moves his hand, Lucas is not surprised to confirm Eliott’s smile is bright and spreads across his face.

“What?” He asks all faux innocence like he doesn’t know the effect his words just had on Lucas.

Lucas leans forward to nip at Eliott’s jaw, just enough to draw a gasp before he leans back. “I want you inside me when I come.” He’s more than satisfied by the way Eliott’s mouth falls open. “And that’s not going to be in this rank fucking hallway.”

 _“Well that’s disappointing_.”

They both jump at the sound of the voice, pushing away from the wall and turning towards it. Mary stands leaning against the wall as she bites into a chocolate bar.

“What the fuck, Mary?!” Lucas yells in exasperation. “How long have you been standing there?”

Mary shrugs. “Long enough to feel a little cheated if I don’t get the full show.”

Eliott snorts with barely suppressed laughter. Lucas shoves his shoulder. “Don’t encourage her.”

“Oh come on,” Mary complains gesturing at Eliott. “I had to hear his sob story. Going on and on about how much he loved you. Like I didn’t already know. Fucking gross, it was. Figure I deserve to at least see the good stuff after that.”

Lucas ignores the end of her statement entirely, turning to Eliott with a grin. “You told Mary you loved me?”

Eliott shrugs with a shy little grin. “You took a while. What else was I going to talk about?”

Lucas laughs lightly. “Christ, Princeling. Getting all up in Leon’s face, waxing poetic to Mary about me… who even are you?”

“You saw Leon?” Eliott asks, eyebrows raised in surprise, a delightful flush spreading across his cheeks.

Lucas smirks. “That I did. Had some interesting things to tell me. Seems to think you’re not into sharing.”

Eliott’s eyebrows pull together with a frown. “I’m not.”

“Ok,” Lucas snorts. “You realize I haven’t been with Leon in like… forever. Last time he tried we were interrupted for a pretty good reason if you remember. You don’t need to warn him off, yeah? I was never gonna get with Leon. Not since you.”

“Yeah but,” Eliott pouts, all stubborn irritation, “I wanted him to know.”

“Know what?” Lucas asks amused. Eliott is just… so fucking cute, all puffed up and territorial.

“That you’re mine.”

“Oh, you think so?” Lucas hums, moving a little closer to Eliott, eyes dropping to his lips. “You seem awfully confident. You didn’t even know I would be when you talked to him.”

Eliott’s hands move to Lucas’s waist, squeezing tightly. “He didn’t know that.”

“You know I’m not really one for jealousy but on you?” Lucas tilts his head up in clear suggestion as he whispers, “It’s fucking hot.”

Eliott grins, bending down to brush their lips together in a clear tease before the kiss, only the second he begins pressing their lips together they’re reminded most inconveniently that they are not alone.

_“It’s actually disturbing how hot you two are together. Jesus, I need to get laid.”_

Lucas snorts dropping his face into Eliott’s neck, pressing his lips into the soft skin.

“Thank you, Mary,” Eliott replies, sincere politeness in his tone. Lucas bites at the tendon running down Eliott’s neck, satisfied by the way his voice hitches as he continues. “But I think Lucas and I will be going now. I appreciate your support tonight.”

“Anytime, babe.”

Lucas doesn’t bother looking back at her. He’ll thank her for taking care of Eliott another time… maybe. At Eliott’s suggestion they leave, Lucas turns and immediately begins dragging him by the hand, breaking into a jog as Eliott giggles behind him.

“Why are we running?” Eliott asks, breathless as they run out of the building and down the alley.

“Because, Princeling!” Lucas yells happily as he throws a grin back at Eliott over his shoulder. “We have things to do and places to see and fucking to be had.”

“Lucas!” Eliott gasps appalled. “Don’t yell it like that. What if someone heard you?”

“Then they would be very, very jealous. As they should be.” He turns the corner towards the shelter, slowing his pace to a walk and pulling Eliott to his side so he can smile up at him properly, entwined hands swinging between them.

“You shouldn’t call it that anyways,” Eliott chastises with a smile.

Lucas scoffs. “Oh god. I’m afraid to ask. What would you call it then? Is ‘sex’ more palatable to your innocent, virgin ears?”

“No.” Eliott squeezes Lucas’s hand. “It’s making love. It’s all we’ve ever done.”

“ _Ugggghhhh_ ,” Lucas groans, closing his eyes and tipping back his head in exaggerated disgust. “You are the worst. Fucking fairy-tale Prince.”

Eliott snickers, releasing Lucas’s hand to step in front of him, stopping their progress down the sidewalk. He cups Lucas’s face, pecking him quickly on the mouth. “You love it. You love me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucas huffs, pushing past him. “Don’t rub it in.”

Eliott laughs, jogging to catch up and match Lucas’s stride, bumping their shoulders together. The lights of the shelter glow just ahead and that’s when Lucas remembers. Or more accurately, the gleam of the Jag serves as a very obvious reminder. Lucas swings on Eliott immediately, smacking his shoulder.

“I am going to kill you! I can’t believe I fucking forgot…”

“What?” Eliott pouts, confused, rubbing at his shoulder though Lucas barely touched him.

Lucas waves an arm towards the Jag. “You want to explain to me how the fuck the Jag got here?”

Eliott looks immediately contrite. “Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_. You drove it here?” Lucas knows the answer but asks anyways. Eliott nods. His eyes go a little wide and he drops his chin. Lucas knows exactly what he’s doing, and he won’t fall for it. “Don’t give me those puppy dog eyes. You don’t even have a license!”

“I’m the Prince of France…”

“So _now_ you decide to go all pompous privilege on me? Right when you know you’re in trouble!”

“But Lucas,” Eliott argues and there’s a definite whine to his voice, “you can’t be mad. Now we have a way to get home.”

“You could easily have crashed. You realize that right?” Lucas asks, adopting a more serious tone. In truth, he really is pretty mad Eliott took such a stupid risk. “You put yourself and everyone else on the road in danger.”

Eliott’s face drops. “I know. I’m sorry. It was a stupid thing to do.” His eyes lower for a moment as he collects his thoughts before he looks back to Lucas. “I just needed to get to you, and I didn’t think.”

“But you’re terrified of driving.” Lucas honestly can’t even imagine the thought process that led to Eliott jumping in the Jag.

“I thought I lost you,” Eliott explains with a slight shrug. “Driving didn’t seem so scary after that.”

 _This romantic asshole…_ “You did that on purpose.”

“What?” But the slight smile on Eliott’s face confirms he knows exactly what Lucas means.

“Key fob,” Lucas demands, hand out.

Eliott reaches in his pocket, producing the key fob and handing it over with a smile that is far too smug. “Always wanted my very own driver. Didn’t expect one of your caliber.”

“Oh, alright. I was wondering when sasspup would show up,” Lucas says with eyebrow raised. Eliott grins delighted. “Not sure there’s enough room in the car for you _and_ your sass, Princeling.”

“I don’t know,” Eliott grins, biting his lip. “It fits you and your ego.”

Lucas barks a laugh. “Fuck. I love you.” Eliott flushes immediately, smile spreading across his face until his eyes crinkle with it. “C’mon.” Lucas tilts his head towards the car. It’s as he opens the door and settles in the driver’s seat that he notices it. The Princess Bride DVD resting on the console between the seats. Lucas picks it up, looking at Eliott as he situates himself in the passenger seat.

“Oh.” Eliott responds to the unspoken question. “Yeah, um. When I heard you left, I didn’t believe it and I came to your room. I found that there.” His eyes move from the DVD back up to Lucas. “That’s when I knew it was real. You were really gone.” There’s despair reflected in his gaze. “Why did you leave it?”

Lucas shrugs as he mulls over the question. “I wanted you to have it.”

“But why?” Eliott persists.

They’ve already confessed their love to one another, everything is on the table, and yet it feels just as scary to admit this. “It might be silly but,” Lucas smiles a little, doing everything he can to call on the confidence that comes with knowing his feelings are mutual, “it means love to me. The movie. The story. The DVD. Whatever. All of it. It’s love. And that wasn’t mine anymore. It was yours. I’d given it to you.” He taps the DVD in his hands. “So, I wanted you to have it. Even if you didn’t have me.”

Eliott’s eyes shine with unshed tears, a gentle smile breaking across his face. “I think you’re the most romantic person I know.”

Heat fills Lucas’s cheeks immediately and he scoffs, looking away from Eliott quickly. “Shut up.”

“You are,” Eliott insists. “The most _romantic_.”

Lucas would tell him right off but in a rare gift from the gods his phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s a sharp reminder that the rest of the world exists and there are likely many people currently very worried for Eliott’s safety. Lucas pulls it out quickly, seeing that it’s a message from Alexia asking if everything is ok. He replies with a simple, _It’s all good. I found him. I’ll explain later._ Idriss on the other hand Lucas doesn’t expect to be all that accepting of a simple message and texts quickly back and forth until Idriss is satisfied.

Lucas pockets his phone, smiling as he looks up at Eliott who’s watching him curiously.

“Who was it?”

“Idriss. He’s definitely kicking your ass tomorrow, just so you know.”

Eliott huffs. “He was already mad at me. Him and Lucille. I’m used to it.”

“Idriss and Lucille?” Lucas clarifies confused. “Why?”

“Because of you,” Eliott explains looking a little embarrassed. “They both sort of helped me realize what happened… how I’d messed up.”

“I thought Lucille was pissed at me. Nico said she was mad when he saw her.”

“Nico?” Eliott asks looking surprised.

“Yeah, he came by the shelter to say bye. Kind of encouraged me in his own way, I guess.” It’s odd to look back on the conversation now and realize exactly how correct Niccolὸ had been. Lucas needs to remember to send him a thank you note… or gift basket… of sex toys. For he and Marti. Something really nice like that. He deserves it.

“Oh, I didn’t realize he was going to.” But Eliott doesn’t look entirely surprised by the news, likely just as familiar with the Italian Prince’s kindness as Lucas now is. “But yeah, Lucille was pissed. With me though. Not you.”

“Seriously?” The thought had never even occurred to Lucas.

“Yeah,” Eliott confirms with a slight laugh, looking charmed by Lucas’s shock. “She really likes you. And she loves Chloe. And well… Chloe was _really mad_.” Eliott bares his teeth slightly in a grimace. “I think I’m on her bad side.”

Lucas can’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry. She’s a softie. The second she sees me happy she’ll turn into a big pile of mush.”

“You’re happy, hunh?” Eliott asks with a cheeky grin.

Lucas gives him a thoroughly unimpressed look before turning to start up the car. “Shut up.”

“Are you blushing?” He reaches forward to poke Lucas’s cheek. “Cute.”

“Don’t push it, Princeling.” Lucas tosses his phone at Eliott. “Make yourself useful and choose some tunes. We’re going for a drive.”

“Really?” Eliott’s voice is all childish delight and Lucas can’t help but look over at him.

“Yeah.” His voice has gentled without conscious intent. He really is a complete sucker, isn’t he? Dammit. Idriss is going to have a field day. “You said you wanted to try it, right? Wide open roads, killer tunes blasting. Let’s see if we can get you hooked on this whole driving thing.”

“But you’re driving,” Eliott grins.

“For now,” Lucas agrees with a wink. “We’ll see where the night takes us, yeah?”

“Ok.” Smile as wide as his face, Eliott turns his attention to the phone in his hand.

“Pick something good, yeah?” Lucas suggests with eyebrow raised. “There’s no dubstep on there, so I know it’s going to be hard, but I have faith in you.”

“You’re an idiot,” Eliott looks up with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

Lucas grins. “One.”

“What?” Eliott’s eyebrows bunch together.

“The count.” Lucas turns back to face the front, putting the car in gear and pulling out onto the empty road. “One. It’s a fresh start.”

“Weirdo,” Eliott snorts, selecting a song, the first notes filling the car. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah.” If thirteen-year-old Lucas could see him now…

_I was born to love you  
With every single beat of my heart  
Yes, I was born to take care of you  
Every single day of my life_

_You are the one for me  
I am the man for you  
You were made for me  
You're my ecstasy_

* * * *

Lucas drives until the buildings become sparse, fewer and far between, until it’s just them and the music and the wide-open road.

“My mom would love this,” Lucas speaks into the comfortable silence between them as _Tequila Sunrise_ fills the car with melody.

“Yeah?” Eliott turns on his seat to look over at Lucas. “We could take her sometime…” It’s neither a question nor a statement, pointedly left open-ended.

“Sure,” Lucas agrees easily, smiling over at Eliott. “She’d really like that.”

“Do you think – would she like me?” There’s an obvious insecurity to Eliott’s voice.

“She’s already met you,” Lucas reminds him with a chuckle. “Before I ever did. I remember her saying you were the only person who told her that evening she looked beautiful. Pretty sure you’re already in her good books for that alone.”

“I did? I don’t remember,” Eliott says, laughing just a little as he tries to recall. “I can’t believe I don’t remember the first time I met _you_ ,” he adds wistfully.

“I was ten,” Lucas laughs. “Very forgettable.”

“I doubt that,” Eliott dismisses with a scoff. “You must have been adorable.”

“Oh sure,” Lucas agrees. “And shy-as-fuck. And so tongue-tied the first time I met you, I’m not even sure I spoke one word.”

Eliott laughs in surprise. “You? Shy?! That doesn’t sound right.”

“Yeah well,” Lucas exhales a noise like laughter. “I hadn’t yet grown into the studly, confident specimen you see before you now. Though I suppose I should thank fifteen-year-old you for getting that process started.”

“Really?” Eliott asks sounding genuinely shocked.

“Mmhmm,” Lucas turns to smile at him quickly before directing his eyes back to the road. “Nothing like having the Prince of France tell you you’re cute and lay one on you, to boost a kid’s confidence.”

“So you’re saying I’m to blame for this ego of yours?”

Lucas doesn’t need to look at Eliott to know the exact quality of his cheeky smile. “You don’t get to claim that much credit. You just, you know… pushed me in the right direction… and out came excellence.”

Eliott snorts. “Guess I can’t argue with that.”

Lucas throws him a bright smile. “No, you definitely can’t. Not when you get to reap the benefits.”

Silence sits for a moment between them before Eliott speaks again, a softer quality to his tone. “I’m sorry I couldn’t then. I’m sorry things went like they did.”

“I’m not,” Lucas states resolutely, finding he means it more than he ever has before. “We wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for all the rest.”

“I guess,” Eliott agrees, reluctance still clear. “I just hate thinking about you… going through all of that. Alone.”

“Not totally alone. I had Alexia.”

“I’m glad.”

Lucas sees an area to pull the car aside and does so, putting it in park before undoing his seat belt and shifting to face Eliott. Eliott’s doing the same, a gentle smile on his face.

“I can’t imagine it was an easy go for you around that time, either, hey? I remember thinking…” Lucas licks his lips, looking down for a moment as he recalls the feeling, “all I wanted to do was hold you – hug you – and I never got the chance.”

Eliott smiles a little sadly, bringing a hand up to brush back through Lucas’s hair. “It was rough for a while, yeah. But I had Manon, Lucille… even my mom.” Lucas tries not to react, but something must show on his face. “I know.” Eliott nods in response. “She’s made a lot of mistakes and I won’t defend her but… she got me the help I needed back then.”

“Well… then I’m glad,” Lucas admits somewhat reluctantly.

“But I’m sorry it came at your expense. I’m sorry what she did – what she did then and what she did now – that both times it was you who ended up hurt.”

“I don’t want you to apologize for her,” Lucas cuts Eliott off before he can continue. “I don’t even want an apology from her. It wouldn’t mean anything to me.”

“Yeah,” Eliott nods, looking sad but understanding. “I still can’t help but wish it could have been different though. Different when we were kids, I mean. I wish we hadn’t lost one another.”

“Hey,” Lucas reaches forward to poke Eliott’s cheek until it dimples slightly with his smile, “We found our way back, right?”

“Yeah.” There’s a gentle smile spreading on Eliott’s face. “Fifteen-year-old me wasn’t an idiot,” His attempt at a wink is far more like a blink, the adorable bastard. “Took me a little longer than I expected to lock it down, but I knew what I was doing.”

Lucas snorts. “Yeah, you’re telling me. Damn near gave me a heart attack when you tried kissing me with tongue back then.”

“Really?” Eliott’s face transforms with a delighted laugh.

“Yes, _really_ ,” Lucas scoffs. “I was thirteen years old. I’d never been kissed before – never even really admitted to myself how much I liked boys. And there you were, all beautiful and wild, and trying to kiss me _with tongue_.”

Eliott stretches forward to wrap his arm around Lucas’s neck, pulling him closer as he leans across the console, smile splitting his face. “And? How was it?”

“Well, we barely got to the tongue part,” Lucas admits, eyes involuntarily falling to Eliott’s lips as their faces move more closely together. “But I guess it was alright.”

Eliott’s smile grows. “ _Alright_ enough you decided you only wanted to kiss me.”

 _The smug little fucker_. Lucas won’t stand for that. “That’s right,” he smirks. “Kissed you and thought, ‘wow no way I’m doing that again’.”

Eliott laughs, hauling Lucas in to connect their lips, pulling back just as quickly. “Not sure I believe you.”

“Mmm,” Lucas hums, nuzzling their noses together. “I don’t know why. This is clearly terrible for me.”

“Shut up!” Eliott laughs sounding far more delighted than offended, reconnecting their lips. Initially they’re both smiling too hard to do much more than press their lips together and laugh into the contact. But then smiles give way to more urgency, tongues connecting, and it’s wet, dark, heat. Lucas needs to put a stop to this before he forgets entirely his plan to get Eliott behind the wheel. He pushes Eliott back, mouths separating with a lurid smacking sound.

“Your turn,” Lucas whispers against his lips before hauling Eliott back further with a hand gripped in his hair.

“What?” Eliott asks looking a little dazed, gaze darting back and forth between Lucas’s eyes and lips.

“Driving, Princeling,” Lucas grins. “You think I forgot? Need to check out these newfound skills of yours.”

Eliott turns to look out to the darkened road ahead of them. “Here?”

“No, I drove us out here to propose the idea. We’re going to drive another few hours before I let you behind the wheel – just for shits and giggles you know.”

“Alright, alright,” Eliott laughs. “No need for sarcasm. I’m supposed to be the sassy one around here.”

“I’m glad you’ve accepted your role in this relationship.” Lucas moves to get out of the car, jogging around to open Eliott’s door for him.

When Eliott steps out of the car, he’s doesn’t move around it initially, blocking the door and smiling softly at Lucas.

“What?” Lucas asks confused.

“You said relationship.” Eliott bites his lip looking utterly thrilled.

“Oh my god,” Lucas says with a snort, throwing in an eye roll for good measure. “You’re so romantic, it’s ridiculous.”

“You like it.” Eliott looks way too sure of that. “Besides,” he adds with the corner of his mouth pulling up, “who just ran around the car to open my door like a true _gentleman.”_

“Damn, Princeling, if that’s the bar, we’re going to have to raise it.”

“As long as you’re the one setting the standard…”

“Oh I’m definitely the one setting the standard. Next time some other dude runs to open the door for you, I’m tripping him.”

Eliott laughs. “Idiot.”

“Yeah well, who’s the one that signed up for a life with this idiot?” Lucas asks smugly.

“Life, hunh? Thought I was just in it for the driving lessons.” Eliott raises a challenging eyebrow.

And Lucas means to respond with just as much cheek but instead his words come out painfully sincere. “Well I haven’t assessed your skills yet. That could take a lifetime. I mean… if you want.”

Eliott’s smile is in his eyes as he responds, just as soft and sincere. “I want.”

“Good.” Lucas tries not to be too obvious about the sheer joy pumping through his veins. He’s pretty sure he’s failing at every mark judging by the elated expression on Eliott’s face. “Now stop looking at me like that and get in and drive.”

Eliott leans forward, kissing the tip of Lucas’s nose, with a sweet smile.

“As you wish.”

* * * *

Of all the things Lucas predicted it wasn’t this. Eliott is doing just fine. More than fine. He’s been cruising down the back roads they’ve found themselves on quite happily, driving aimlessly with one arm resting atop the steering wheel, the other stretched across the console, hand gripping Lucas’s thigh. He looks confident… and at ease… and so fucking hot, Lucas might actually die.

Eliott’s rattling on about how he’s going to get his license and how maybe he and Lucas can practice more before then. Lucas is finding it hard to concentrate on anything more than how badly he suddenly needs Eliott. It hits him in one sudden intense wave, and Eliott’s hand keeps moving on Lucas’s thigh, fingers tapping and moving as he speaks. Lucas can’t help but wonder if this is what it was like for Eliott during the first movie night… when Lucas hadn’t even meant to be making any moves and had unwittingly fallen headfirst into getting Eliott off. Lucas remembers it well, how hard Eliott had been beneath Lucas’s hand, the way he’d pressed his face into Lucas’s neck, how he’d tried so hard to stay quiet. Oh god. _Not helping, Lucas, not helping._ It also really doesn’t help that AC/DC is currently wailing about the same thing.

 _Cause the walls start shaking_ _  
The earth was quaking  
My mind was aching  
And we were making it and you_

_Shook me all night long_

“Don’t you think?” Eliott asks looking over at Lucas with an eyebrow quirked in question.

“Yes,” Lucas replies having no idea what Eliott is asking. He motions towards a road coming up on their right. It’s a dead end. There are no buildings surrounding it. “Pull over there.”

 _Just another course_ _  
Made a meal out of me and came back for more  
Had to cool me down  
To take another round_

Eliott does as he’s told quite happily. He parks the car and unbuckles his seat belt turning to Lucas with a proud smile. He wants praise. Lucas is more than happy to oblige… just maybe not in the way Eliott’s expecting. Thanking all the gods for the Jag’s lack of a gear shift, Lucas moves easily across the console to straddle him, connecting their lips immediately in a bruising kiss. Eliott freezes in surprise but gets with the program quickly, hands moving to Lucas’s hips to grip him tightly, returning the kiss with just as much urgency. His hands move to Lucas’s ass to pull Lucas down into him in a deep grind that has them groaning into one another’s mouths.

“Eliott, _god_ , Eliott.” Lucas shifts slightly to better the angle, pushing his knees further into the seat and arching his back, hands tight on Eliott’s shoulder as he rocks against him, feeling Eliott harden beneath his ass. “Oh fuck.” He arches further and the horn of the car blares. They both react with surprise. Eliott jerks up, sending Lucas’s elbow into the horn this time, but simultaneously manages to thrust up in a way that has sparks shooting from Lucas’s balls right up to the tip of his now aching erection.

“Oh fuck,” Lucas groans and falls forward, burying his face in Eliott’s neck with a giggle he can’t help. He feels Eliott chuckle beneath him. “Car sex is not nearly as sexy as I thought it would be.”

“Car sex, hm?” Eliott rumbles against his ear. “Is that what we’re doing?”

“Did I not make that obvious enough?” Lucas asks raising his head to give Eliott an unimpressed look.

Eliott shrugs and with a smirk moves forward to press his lips to Lucas’s ear once more. “Not sexy enough for you, hunh?” He speaks in a low, raspy tenor that has Lucas’s skin prickling with anticipation.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Lucas breathes. “You took that as a challenge, didn’t you?”

Eliott chuckles, tilting his head back to rub their lips against one another. “Maybe.”

“Back seat,” Lucas replies urgently, pushing up and off Eliott. “Back seat.” There’s a space between the seats, housing the console. Fueled by asinine impulse, Lucas throws himself forward to crawl into the backseat. Only, being around Eliott and Idriss has Lucas apparently under the illusion he’s smaller than he is. And now he’s… wedged between the seats by the waist. It would seem his hips and ass are slightly more luscious than he’d given them credit. Eliott really is a lucky man. Speaking of, Lucas can hear the lucky man in question distinctly snort.

“Shut up!” Preemptive strike seems the best defense at this point.

“Are you stuck?” Eliott asks with barely suppressed laughter.

“No,” Lucas huffs. “I am resting and contemplating my options.” It’s not a total lie. He’s just contemplating how to get unstuck with his pride still intact… and with hopefully minimal squirming and/or shimmying. 

“Oh sure,” Eliott snorts. “A plethora of options being available to you at the moment, of course.”

“Listen, sasspup–” Lucas begins but is promptly cut off by the feel of Eliott’s hands spreading over his ass. They dig into each cheek, spreading and kneading, the heat of them felt even through the thick cotton of Lucas’s jogging pants. “What are you doing?” He’s gone instantly breathless, heart rabbiting in his throat.

“Mind your business.”

Lucas snorts. “My ass is my business.”

“Mmm,” Eliott hums, running his thumbs up the crack of Lucas’s ass, pressing the material down into it as he goes. “You sure?”

“Eliott,” Lucas croaks, eyes shutting as Eliott’s thumbs massage back and forth, fingers digging into the flesh of Lucas’s ass.

“You know,” Eliott rumbles, voice deeper than normal and so goddamn sexy Lucas really isn’t going to make it, “the way you’re positioned right now… we could…”

“No,” Lucas snorts, immediately and definitively. “You are not fucking me like this.”

“ _Making love_ ,” Eliott corrects, all stubborn indignation. “And I meant… I could… prep you? I mean…” One thumb presses a little more deeply, heat right against Lucas’s hole now. Eliott sucks in a jagged breath. “The way you look right now.” And suddenly his teeth are connecting, biting sharply against one cheek over the material, just for a second, just long enough for white sparks to dance across Lucas’s vision. “I’ll make it good for you.”

“Yeah,” Lucas moans. God, Eliott is so fucking sexy and Lucas knows exactly what he can do with his fingers… his beautiful, long, elegant fingers, and… _no_ , no wait… “Goddammit, Princeling!” Lucas yells, flailing in a way he promised himself he wouldn’t. “You are NOT going to make this sexy!”

Eliott laughs, loud and amused, hands easing up slightly where they’ve claimed ownership of Lucas’s ass. “It is most definitely you making this sexy. I was just innocently learning to drive and you went and presented yourself to me.”

“ _Presented myself_ ,” Lucas repeats with what he feels is an adequate amount of outrage but likely came out more breathy than intended. “I cannot believe…” He gives up on trying to free himself in a way that would maintain any dignity, and instead awkwardly scooches his knees up and under himself until he’s able to gain enough leverage to push up. But he’s overestimated the force needed to do so and sends himself careening into the back seat. Head diving towards the floor, his body flips over him landing on the seat in a sprawl with one leg spread up the back of it, the other lands with his foot pressed to the window. Well… not exactly how he intended that to go but… he made it.

It’s then that he becomes aware of the way Eliott is laughing… laughing to the point he’s bent over in his seat, face red and wiping at teary eyes. He looks back at Lucas. Still choking on laughter, he manages to get out, “Yeah that was definitely the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Your idea is so much better.”

Lucas snorts, staring at him as he is from inverted position. “You cannot tell me you don’t want a piece of this right now.” Lucas wiggles an eyebrow ridiculously and runs a hand down his chest to his waistband.

Eliott’s laughter tapers off but his smile remains, staring down at Lucas with utter adoration. “You have no idea. But I want more than a piece. I want it all.”

“Greedy.” Lucas can’t help the smile spreading across his face, so wide his cheeks ache with it. “You might need to get back here, if you wanna claim any of me.” 

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees, smiling just as widely. “Might use the door instead though.”

“Psshh,” Lucas teases. “Boring.”

Eliott turns to shut off the ignition, leaving only the music playing, before he exits out the driver’s side. Lucas stays on his back but repositions with his head against the opposite door and spreads his legs down the bench. He kicks his shoes off, letting them tumble to the floor of the car. Eliott opens the door to join Lucas, shivering obviously.

“It’s so cold.”

“C’mere then,” Lucas smiles, dropping his legs open and stretching his arms wide.

Eliott’s movements falter as he bends down. And then he’s leaping forward, falling down directly on Lucas’s chest with a thump.

“ _Oof_ ,” Lucas gasps, breath forcefully expelled by the weight of Eliott’s body. “What the fuck, Princeling?!”

“What?” Eliott grins, pushing up onto his forearms and thankfully taking some of his weight off Lucas. “Not sexy enough for you?” He reaches back to shut the door behind him, digging an elbow into Lucas’s thigh and knocking his own head against the roof as he insists on swinging the door shut while refusing to move his body from its cradle between Lucas’s legs.

“How the fuck did I fall in love with such a dumbass?”

Eliott turns back with a grin, propping himself back over Lucas. “You can’t be blamed. Greater men have tried and failed to resist my charms.” He starts giggling before he even finishes the sentence, looking so totally pleased with himself, Lucas doesn’t even know what to do with him. “Remember?” Eliott asks, nudging at Lucas’s nose with his own. “You remember when you said that?”

Lucas does remember of course but it’s more fun to tease. He shrugs a little, arms coming up to wrap around Eliott’s neck. “Hmm… that does sound like me… but I might need a reminder.”

“That first night,” Eliott offers up immediately. “In the dark. You kept teasing me and–” He leans down to press their foreheads together for just a moment as he breathes deeply before moving back to look at Lucas once more. “You were so hot. Thought I was going to pass out on the spot.”

Lucas snorts, trying desperately not to sound too pleased. “Really?”

“Yes, _really_ ,” Eliott chides with a raised eyebrow, leaning down to peck Lucas quickly on the lips. “Like you didn’t know.”

In all honestly, while Lucas had enjoyed their banter and the teasing, he hadn’t been aware he was having that much of an effect on Eliott. “I was a little too busy saving your ass to notice how much you were ogling mine, Princeling.”

“You do have a really nice butt,” Eliott agrees happily, moving a hand to Lucas’s thigh and sliding it down until he reaches his ass, squeezing with a satisfied smile.

“Yes, you’ve said,” Lucas grins.

“I knew it then.”

“That I have a nice ass?”

“No,” Eliott laughs. “Or, well… yes. But that’s not what I meant.” He moves down to his elbows, cupping Lucas’s face and pressing their chests together. It’s a welcome weight this time. “You were moving around me in the dark and everything was just… _so much._ And I knew. I knew you were going to be important… knew I was in trouble.” He brings a finger up to trace over Lucas’s lips. “I’d only felt it once before.” The implication is clear. _As kids_. _With you_. Lucas knows just what he means.

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees. A pitiful contribution but the only word he can manage to squeeze from his throat.

Eliott breaks into a sudden smile. “And then you wouldn’t give me your number.”

Lucas purses his lips to press a kiss to Eliott’s fingertip, smiling a little as he answers. “Couldn’t make things that easy on you.”

“And Idriss refused to find you.”

Lucas makes an immediate noise of affront, pushing at Eliott’s shoulders. “You asked Idriss to track me down?!”

Eliott shrugs, cheeks flushing a little but otherwise looking unapologetic. “What good is being a Prince if I can’t abuse the privilege a little?”

“I _cannot believe_ –” Lucas begins only to be cut off by Eliott’s lips descending over his own and well, it’s like Eliott said, greater men have failed when faced with such obstacles.

Eliott breaks the kiss for just a moment. Lucas can feel his smile against his own lips. “In the end you did make it easy, showing up at the Palace that day.”

Lucas leans up to nip at his lip. “Who you callin’ _easy_ , Princeling?”

“Mmm,” Eliott hums. “Confusing is probably more accurate.”

“What?! How was I confusing?”

Eliott makes a sound of amusement, a soft exhale of air against Lucas’s lips. “You were always flirting with me.” He leans down to kiss the corner of Lucas’s mouth. “Teasing me. All the time.” His lips move to the other side of Lucas’s mouth, leaving a kiss there too.

“What’s confusing about that?” Lucas asks in a whisper, tilting up into the touch of Eliott’s lips.

“You flirted with everyone else too,” Eliott leaves a kiss on his chin, moving to the bow of his mouth and pecking him there as well. “It drove me crazy. You’d flirt with me but then… Chloe…and Yann…” He reaches Lucas’s nose and kisses the tip. “Idriss.” The quality of his voice changes with that particular name.

Lucas tries to hide his amusement. “I do like flirting with Idriss, it’s true.”

“Stop.” There’s a note of warning in Eliott’s voice, but Lucas has never been one for avoiding the forbidden fruit, especially when it comes shaped like a jealous Eliott.

“What?” He blinks innocently. “I’m just saying… Idriss is hot. And we train together, and you know… we’re sweaty and–”

“ _Lucas._ ”

“Rolling around together. And _god,_ his body.”

Eliott cuts him off the most effective way possible, pressing down with a hard kiss. He bites at Lucas’s mouth in retribution, until he’s satisfied, and he licks at the abused swell of Lucas’s lips, following them into his mouth, tangling their tongues together. Eliott kisses like he flirts, at times so cocky, so confident and focused it brings Lucas to his knees, at other times, so clumsy, soft and gentle, it’s as though he’s too caught up in the feeling of it for practiced moves. Both methods are equally devastating. At present his kiss is nothing but demand – demand that Lucas give himself over, stop teasing and submit. It’s not a hard demand to meet. Just as Lucas’s hands move to the back of Eliott’s neck, scratching lightly at the hairline, Eliott sits up abruptly, reaching for Lucas’s shirt and without ceremony, yanking it up and over Lucas’s head with little more than a grunted ‘up’. He gives himself the same treatment, throwing the articles of clothing towards the front seats with little care.

“Jesus, Princeling. Warn a guy.” Lucas could not sound less annoyed if he’d tried. Instead he sounds breathless and… so fucking turned on he’d be embarrassed if it weren’t for the fact that Eliott doesn’t appear to have heard him at all. His eyes are on Lucas’s chest, hands moving across it in a soft caress. Lucas has always loved Eliott’s hands. They’re big yet elegant, both slender and strong, and they’re covering the expanse of Lucas’s rib-cage. Lucas remembers what they felt like the night in the library. He’d like a reminder anyways.

“Eliott,” he lifts his hips up a little, arching up into Eliott’s hands on his chest, “pants. I want them off.” Eliott only responds with a grunt, fingers moving over Lucas’s nipples before they final descend to the waistband of his pants. “Is that how you’re going to communicate now? Just man grunts?” Eliott eyes flit back to him, and there’s a smile curling at the corner of his lips. “Mention how hot I am for Idriss and he turns into a caveman.”

Eliott instantly frowns, eyebrows pulling together, and then he’s ripping Lucas’s sweatpants and briefs down in one harsh movement, throwing them to the floor.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Lucas gasps, cock springing free, hard and aching against his belly.

Eliott falls down on him, latching immediately to his neck in a rough bite, teething at the skin and sucking. He moves up, _bite suck bite suck_ , until he reaches Lucas’s jaw, nipping at the prickly skin.

“Say it.” 

“What?” Lucas gasps, threading his hands through Eliott’s hair. He honestly has no idea what Eliott wants but he’d recite the causes, trials, and outcome of all of France’s significant historical events if it would just keep Eliott’s mouth on him.

Eliott's hand is suddenly encircling Lucas’s erection, his grip is tight and sure, but that’s all he does: hold without movement, without offering any relief from the swell of want surging in Lucas.

“Say it.” He breathes the words, hot and raspy against Lucas’s throat.

While Lucas may not know exactly what Eliott’s looking for, he’s nothing if not resourceful when motivated. “Only you. _Fuck_. Eliott. I only want you. No one else. Never wanted anyone else.” Eliott’s lips have softened against his neck, gentle kisses being pressed to the tender skin, and his hand moves, _finally_ moves, offering blissful relief as he slides it to the head of Lucas’s cock, concentrating there, twisting _just_ right. “Oh god,” Lucas moans. “Other men? Never heard of them. Never seen another man. Trolls. All of them.”

“Shut up,” Eliott laughs into his neck, raising his head to look at Lucas, smile bright. He moves his hand to Lucas’s inner thigh, and Lucas would whine about it except then Eliott has to go and say, “You are such an idiot. I love you so much.”

It’s exactly how Lucas wants to hear that love declaration for the rest of their lives. He just can’t let Eliott know he just had that extremely romantic thought, or he’ll never live it down.

“Eh, I love you too, I guess,” Lucas allows with a smothered smile, pulling his legs up and back where they bracket Eliott. “Now get to it, Princeling. Starting to think you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Eliott suddenly gasps, sitting up fully as he stares down at Lucas in horror. “Lucas, I don’t have anything! I didn’t think… I wasn’t planning.”

Lucas catches up to what Eliott is saying and shifts to reach down for his discarded jacket, producing the necessary supplies after hunting through his pockets, he deposits them onto his own stomach with a raised eyebrow.

“Wha – why did you have a condom and lube tonight?” Eliott’s eyebrows draw together with unhappiness.

Lucas snorts. “Eliott, it’s habit. You might need to accept one of these days that I have actually had sex before you. A lot of it in fact.”

“No.” He pouts. The ridiculous, adorable bastard. Lucas should not be finding this ridiculous behaviour so endearing.

At the very least, he can continue to give Eliott shit about it. “You need more reassurance than me laying here, legs spread, dick hard,” Lucas wraps a hand around his erection. It’s meant as a tease, but his eyelids flutter slightly at the contact and he has to bite back a groan, “just waiting for you to put your cock in me? Not good enough for you?” His voice has gone husky without consent, reacting to his own words and touch. “You need me to tell you again? Only you.” He pitches his voice to a mocking tone this time. “No one else. _Twwwuuu wuvvvv_.”

“You are such a dickhead.”

“Dickhead!” Lucas crows happily. “Ooohhh, things are getting spicy in here now. Careful, sasspup. You start swearing, you’ll make me hard.” He pointedly strokes his erection for… you know… effect.

“You know,” Eliott moves to take the lube, ripping it open to slick up his fingers as Lucas watches with interest he doesn’t bother to hide, hand gliding loosely up and down his erection, “I don’t think I need to curse to get you there.” He wastes no time feeling Lucas out, pressing a slick finger into him.

“Oh no?” Lucas asks, sucking in a breath and tipping his head back a little, eyelids fluttering as the relief of feeling Eliott inside washes over him. His own hand pauses in its motions, grip lax as all his focus goes to Eliott. 

“No.” Eliott leans back down over Lucas as his finger presses deeper, propping himself on an elbow next to Lucas’s head. “I think it’s me. The sound of my voice. That’s what does it.”

“You’re very full of yourself.” Lucas would like to say he manages to infuse his tone with some attitude. He’s pretty sure he’d be lying. 

“That’d be you actually,” Eliott replies – the _smug bastard_ – pressing a second finger in to join the first.

“Can’t believe just said that.” Yes, he can.

“Yes, you can.” Eliott leans down to press a kiss to Lucas’s cheek, moving his mouth back against his ear. “You don’t want me to stop.” His fingers are relentless, pressing and stretching, enough and not nearly. “You like it. Knowing what you do to me. Knowing how badly I want you… how badly I want to be inside you.”

“ _Ungh_.” Lucas’s body moves beyond his control, arching and pressing down on Eliott’s fingers, hands moving to Eliott’s shoulders for purchase. The loss of contact to his aching cock leaves Lucas shaking with need but he can’t… it’s too much. He digs his nails into Eliott’s skin. “Eliott.”

“God, you have no idea,” Eliott continues, forehead resting against the side of Lucas’s. “The things I want to do to you.”

“What?” Lucas begs, a whisper stripped bare. _Please, please tell me._

“I want to take care of you. I think you’d like it. Someone else taking control. You’re in control all the time.” He presses in a third finger and Lucas’s breathing has shortened, sounding frantic and desperate to his own ears. “God I just – I want to –” His breath is hot against Lucas’s face, “I want to pin you down, _tie_ _you down_.” Oh god. Oh _god,_ did he just… “I want you to give in, let yourself go. I want to get you there. Lucas.” He presses a kiss to Lucas’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful. Never seen anything like it. I want to be inside you. I want to be inside you forever.”

“Fuck.” Lucas pushes frantically at Eliott’s shoulders, one hand going to his stomach to locate the condom that thankfully still rests there, he slaps it to Eliott’s chest. “Now. Inside me. Now. Eliott. I can’t – I need it now.” It’s barely coherent but it gets the point across.

Eliott’s eyes are dark, the intensity of them cutting right to Lucas’s core. He does as told, ripping open the condom with steady hands, looking confident and sure. It’s only then he seems to realize he’s still wearing his pants. Lucas snorts at the look of confusion that sweeps over his face. Eliott’s shoulders pull up in a slight shrug, smile only a little chagrined as sets the condom aside and works to free himself from them. He’s not wearing pants as easy to divest himself of as Lucas’s joggers were. Instead he battles first with unfastening them, freeing his erection. He’s so hard it couldn’t have been comfortable. Then again, he’d been so focused on Lucas, it’s not entirely a surprise he hadn’t noticed his own growing need. Pulling his pants down his hips and getting them off entirely within the too-small confines of the back seat of the Jag, just confirms Lucas’s suspicion that car sex is not nearly as sexy as one would think. Eliott turns slightly in an attempt to more conveniently sit and pull off the pants, only Lucas’s legs are taking up a fair amount of the space and in his struggle to kick the pants off his calves he falls sideways, catching himself with a hand on Lucas’s stomach.

“Fuck, Eliott!” Lucas yelps, immediately latching onto the hand that just happened to fall on the most ticklish spot imaginable. He starts laughing before he can help himself. “Get – Eliott – get off!”

While Eliott eases the pressure, he doesn’t remove his hand entirely, face stretched in a delighted grin. “Oh my god, I forgot you were ticklish.”

“Shut up.” Lucas pouts, laughter under control but only just barely suppressed with Eliott’s hand still on him. He refuses to remove it. He’s stronger than that. He is _not_ ticklish. No, sir. Never heard of her.

“You’re so cute.” Despite this being the least sexual compliment Lucas can imagine, Eliott is moving to put on the condom with something resembling frantic need. He slicks himself up and Lucas has never seen a more welcome sight.

Hands to Lucas’s thighs, press him back further, spreading him open as Eliott positions himself between them. One hand propped beside Lucas and the other hand on his erection, he looks down with dark eyes.

“Ready?”

Lucas can feel the press of the blunt head of Eliott’s cock against him. He can’t stop the way his body is trembling. He feels vulnerable and overwhelmed. Naturally he responds with bluster. “What is this the space launch? You want a count down?”

Eliott shuts his eyes, shaking his head as he exhales a laugh through his nose. “I am so tying you up next time.”

Lucas bites his lip, skimming his hands down Eliott’s sides until they reach his ass. Might as well take advantage of the fact that he’s _not_ restrained… this time. He squeezes, pulling until Eliott gets the message and with a deep exhale takes over, pressing the thick head of his cock into Lucas.

Somewhere distantly in the corner recesses of his mind Lucas suddenly becomes aware of the song playing over the speakers.

“Wait.”

Eliott’s movements immediately freeze. “What?” His breath is coming fast and short, tendons of his neck taught with the strain of stopping, but he doesn’t press any further.

“Fuck, Eliott,” Lucas groans as Chris Isaak croons, _The world was on fire and no one could save me but you._ “The song. It’s too cheesy. We can’t. We’re not making l–”

Eliott gasps. _I'd never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you._

“You were going to say it!”

_No, I don't want to fall in love_

“No. I wasn’t.”

“You were. Say it.” He begins pressing forward once more, achingly slow, just enough of a stretch to have the hair on the back of Lucas’s neck prickle to attention.

“No.”

 _What a wicked game you played to make me feel this way_ _  
What a wicked thing to do to let me dream of you_

“Say it.” He thrusts in small movements, pressing himself deeper each time, and sparks light the corner of Lucas’s vision. "Please."

“Making love.”

 _And I don't want to fall in love_ _  
No, I don't want to fall in love  
With you_

“I love you,” Eliott breathes sounding overwhelmed, and thrusts deeper.

And Lucas wants it. The love. Eliott. All of it. It’s imperfect and perfect. Cramped and awkward in the backseat of the Jag and the hottest thing Lucas has ever experienced. He pulls Eliott down and into a soft kiss, the tenderness of it in direct contrast to the way Eliott moves inside him. He fucks into Lucas with abandon, again and again, hips slapping against Lucas’s skin as he builds a rhythm Lucas does his best to match, arching up to meet the downward thrust of Eliott’s hips.

At some point the song transitions to another, and another. So lost in one another Lucas can only hear the rhythm changes in the way they run through his body. He loses himself in the feeling. He knows he’s making noise, knows Eliott is as well, and he’s never felt less self-conscious. Freer. More himself.

“Lucas, Lucas, Lucas.” It’s a chant, a supplication – Eliott’s mouth pressed to Lucas’s ear as he drives deeper and deeper, arms wrapping around Lucas’s back, holding him close. “Lucas. _Oh god.”_ He’s barely pulling out now, fucking hard and fast as he thrusts home inside Lucas, reluctant to allow them any space or separation at all. Lucas’s cock is trapped between their bellies, friction from Eliott’s movements sending him careening so quickly to orgasm he can barely breathe. Eliott’s tight hold on him is the only thing keeping Lucas from slamming up against the car door.

“Eliott,” Lucas whispers in return, speaking the words into Eliott’s neck. “I love you. I love you.”

Eliott makes a choked sound, rising up slightly and moving to press their foreheads together. He thrusts into Lucas without faltering, reaching down to take Lucas’s erection in a firm hand, setting a brutal pace to match the hard drive of his hips.

Lucas isn’t ready for it. He wants to last forever. He never wants Eliott to stop. But it rushes over him before he can stop it. He squeezes his eyes shut, nails digging into Eliott’s biceps, and releases a wail that would sound pained if it weren’t for the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through his body as he orgasms, shooting up his belly. His body convulses with it, again and again, shuddering as pleasure grips him and refuses to release.

Eliott collapses down, pressing them back together as Lucas shakes apart. His hips don’t stop, relentless in their building rhythm. And the feel of it – Eliott’s cock hard and inside Lucas, driving towards release, Lucas’s spent cock still hard between their bellies, wet with the evidence of his own overwhelming pleasure – it’s too much, _so much_ , just enough, everything Lucas needs.

“Lucas,” Eliott grunts and then his body is shuddering in Lucas’s arms as he comes apart with a deep, groan. He pulls out slightly, thrusting back in as he rides the aftershocks, and Lucas shivers with the intensity of the feeling.

They lay there together, Eliott’s face buried in Lucas’s neck as they come down, neither in any hurry to separate. Eventually Eliott rises up enough to drop his eyes down the length of their bodies. He holds the condom as he pulls out, before disposing of it by tying it off and dropping it the floor. They really need to remember to take care of that properly later, Lucas thinks. He doesn’t want to think what would happen if someone else found it. A sudden visual of a foreign dignitary stepping on it while being driven in the Jag flashes through Lucas’s mind and he can’t help the giggle that bursts from him.

Eliott looks up at him with a surprised smile before his face transforms with concern. He moves to cover Lucas with his own body, hands coming to brush along Lucas’s cheeks. “Lucas, are you ok? Did I hurt you?”

“What?” Lucas asks confused. “No. Why?”

“You’re crying.”

 _What?_ No, he isn’t. Lucas reaches up to wipe at his face only to realize it is indeed moisture he’s wiping away. He looks back at Eliott, pouting instantly. “Shut up.”

The concerned look painted across Eliott’s face immediately changes shape, a beautiful smile forming. “You’re so romantic. Oh my god.”

“I’m not. Be quiet.”

Eliott leans down to kiss him gently, lingering before he pulls back again. “The most romantic boy in the world. Love of my life. I can’t believe I got this lucky.”

“You see,” Lucas points out, “ _that_ is something someone stupidly romantic would say.”

Eliott raises a challenging eyebrow. “Say it.”

Lucas huffs. “I’m not romantic. Your dick has many magical powers, Princeling, but that ain’t one.”

Eliott doesn’t look the least bit deterred. He leans down until he can brush their lips gently together. “Say it.”

“You’re an idiot,” Lucas whispers, hot breath against Eliott’s lips. Then even quieter. “You’re the love of my life. Asshole.”

* * * * 

“I don’t want to go back.”

It could mean a lot of things. Lucas glances over at Eliott as he drives back down the quiet streets of Paris and goes with the most logical assumption.

“Home?”

Eliott nods in confirmation, meeting Lucas’s eyes, anxiety clear. “Things are good. Things are always so good when it’s just us.”

“Am I going to be thrown out by security the second I step foot on the property?” It’s a real worry he hadn’t yet voiced.

“What?” Eliott asks sounding startled. Lucas feel the weight of his eyes on the side of his face. “Of course not.” He reaches forward to squeeze Lucas’s thigh, waiting until Lucas looks over to him quickly. “You’re with me.”

Lucas chuckles to mask the unease building inside him. “ _You’re with me_. You sound like a pompous celeb or some shit.”

Despite the way Lucas deflects, Eliott responds with sincerity. “We’re together, Lucas.” It not a question. It’s a statement. And it settles in Lucas’s chest, warm and filling. “I’m not letting anyone else mess with that ever again.” Lucas pulls up to a red light and turns to look at Eliott as he stops. Eliott smiles, soft and utterly at peace with the words he speaks. “My mother knows. I told her before I left to find you.”

“You told her?” Lucas asks somewhat stupidly.

Eliott nods, smiling. “I mean,” he chuckles a little, “yelled it at her really. But yes. A lot of things were in motion before – before the Ball. Before she – well, when that happened, I couldn’t stall on things anymore. I couldn’t allow her the opportunity to hurt you like that ever again. So, we made it clear. Manon and me. That Idriss is Manon’s choice. And that you – you’ll always be mine.” Some of Lucas’s anxiety must show on his face as Eliott’s own smile drops and he rushes to reassure Lucas. “She’s not angry. Or… well, she is. But she knows Manon and I are going to do things differently. I think she’s known for a while. It’s probably why she’s fought us so hard. Sometimes I think it’s because she’s testing us both – to prove ourselves – prove that we really have what it takes to do things our way… that we want it that much. Enough to fight tooth and nail for it.”

“And other times?”

“I think we’ve genuinely disappointed her and if she could control us like pawns on a chess board, she would. That her love has always been contingent on the level of control she could exercise.” The words are cold and Eliott’s eyes harden as he speaks them.

“So, what version seems the most likely to you?” Lucas knows exactly where his own thoughts on the matter fall but he doesn’t that is helpful in this context.

“I don’t think it’s about what’s most likely. It what I _need_ her to be.” It’s a far more mature perspective on the Queen than Lucas could ever hope to achieve. But then… she’s not his mother.

The light has turned green, but the streets are empty in the early morning hours and Lucas ignores it, setting the car in park and giving Eliott his full attention. “I think I understand that. I lost my mom for a few years. When I ran I had to leave her behind.” He looks away from Eliott for a moment, swallowing to regain his composure. Eliott’s hand tightens on his thigh. “I got her back,” he assures looking back at Eliott. “My dad had put her in this shitty medical facility. The people there tried, but they were underfunded and understaffed and my mom was isolated and,” his voice catches on the emotions that come with remembering, “she wasn’t doing well.” He bites back the pain, focusing on anger towards his father, and the pride he’d felt when he’d finally been able to take care of his mother. “My father never gave a shit. But in a way, that was good. He wasn’t there to interfere. And I got her out.” He smiles a little, looking up at Eliott. “I protected her. She’s happy now. Not always well,” he admits. “She went through a lot. But she’s so much happier than she was. And she has me. And I’d do anything for her.” He pauses for a moment as he gathers his thoughts, turning his head to look out the front window into the darkness of the street before them. “It’s not the same. I know that.” He takes a deep, steadying breath. “I’ve hated your mom for most of my life but… I don’t think I want to anymore. Not ‘cause –” He shakes his head, frustrated that the words are so hard to find, “not because I forgive her. I just don’t think I want to give her that kind of importance in my life anymore. But,” he meets Eliott’s eyes, “she’s your mother. I know that too. I don’t want to fuck things up for you two.”

“Lucas,” Eliott reaches for Lucas’s chin with his free hand, turning Lucas back to face him, “she’s my mother, yes. And part of me will always love her.” He exhales a little shakily, swallowing before continuing, “But it’s you or nothing. I’m not negotiating with her. Not about this. Not when it comes to you. You’re my one thing–”

“Thing?” Lucas interrupts, the laugh in his voice drowned out by the way emotion has clogged the back of his throat, preventing any humour from escaping.

“Yes,” Eliott responds undeterred. “My one thing, I won’t hear any disagreement on. There is no alternative. I am going to be with you. I’d give up everything for you.”

“I don’t want you to.” Lucas doesn’t realize he’s started crying until he speaks. His voice shakes with it but he presses on. “I don’t want you to give up your life for me. That’s not how I want us to be together. It’s what your mother said that morning she came to me. That you’d – you’d destroy your future for me.”

“Lucas,” Eliott cuts him off, grip tight on Lucas’s chin, not allowing him to look away, “you are my life. I don’t want a future without you in it. It’s not about losing something, it’s about gaining you.”

“No,” Lucas protests. Eliott doesn’t get it. He needs to understand, he can’t saddle Lucas with the burden of forever knowing what being with Lucas robbed him of. “We’re not one another’s missing pieces. I came to you whole, Eliott. I don’t need you to be my other half. I don’t want to be yours. I need you to know that. You can’t give up your life for me. You _can’t_.” It doesn’t feel as though he’s explaining himself well and he’s afraid he’s ruining things when they’ve barely even begun, but he means every word.

Eliott doesn’t look upset. He’s looking at Lucas devotedly, a soft, understanding pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You’re right.” Lucas’s mouth drops open a little at the proclamation, and Eliott’s smile widens. “You are. You’re the strongest person I know. The most loving, caring, and solid presence I’ve ever known in my life. I’ve only ever thought of you as a whole. But that doesn’t mean you don’t fill me, Lucas… fill a missing part of my life. I’m my own person, just as you are. But being with you makes me a better person. You make me more _me_. I’ve never felt more myself than when I’m with you. You don’t make me whole. You allow me to be whole. I don’t think I’ve ever felt stronger, more capable, or sure of _myself_ in my entire life. That’s because of you, Lucas. Because you’re a part of my life.” He moves both hands to Lucas’s face now, wiping at the tears he finds there. “Whatever happens, it’s not a loss. Not to me. It’s a choice. A choice to be with you. I will make it a million times over if I have to. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. It’s in no one’s hands but ours. The choice. To be together. Despite all the rest.”

“It’s not fate,” Lucas whispers, blinking to clear the tears from his vision.

“What?” Eliott asks gently, hands petting gently at Lucas’s face.

“It’s in no one’s hands but ours,” Lucas repeats, voice gaining strength. “It’s not fate. It’s never been. Not for me. I found you and I chose you. I’d do it all over again. I’ll keep choosing you too. I always have. From the beginning.” He brings a hand up the thread through Eliott’s hair. “I get it now.” And he does. It’s Eliott’s choice to make. His choice to make as his own person. But… “You’re not giving up your title, though.”

“Lucas…” Eliott sighs.

“No.” Lucas fists a hand in his hair, pulling slightly. “Listen to me.” His voice steadies with newfound determination. “You are a great leader. You and Manon will do great things for this country and people like Mary… people like Emily… they need you. And so do I.” It’s a hard thing to admit. It probably always will be. But it’s true whether he speaks the words or not. And Eliott deserves the words. “I’m not giving you up, either.” A lightness returns to Eliott’s eyes, hope sparking in them as he looks at Lucas. “We’re figuring this out. I don’t care if we have to storm the damn Palace with pitchforks,” Lucas continues and Eliott snorts in humour. “You are getting it all, Princeling. Your position, your family, and my ass.”

Eliott erupts in laughter, eyes still shining with collected tears. “That’s the most important part.”

“Damn right it is,” Lucas agrees. “There’s no Pal _-ass_ without me.” Ok so maybe it’s not his best material but it has Eliott laughing so it can’t be all bad.

“Oh my god,” Eliott giggles. “How did you ever get laid?”

“I don’t know, sasspup,” Lucas retorts, eyebrow cocked in challenge. “You tell me.”

Eliott grins, pulling Lucas in with a hand on the back of his head until their lips are a hair’s breadth apart. “It’s the _ass_.” He kisses Lucas before there’s any chance for a clever rejoinder. It’s open and wet immediately and Lucas sinks into it happily, sucking Eliott’s tongue into his mouth.

The blaring of a horn becomes too persistent to ignore and Lucas realizes with some confusion there is a car behind them creating the disruption. He pulls back from Eliott, glancing to see there’s a green light, but the streets are completely empty, and the car could easily go around them. He motions with a hand for the person to do just that. Only they lay on the horn again.

“What the fuck?!” Lucas exclaims beyond irritated. He whirls around to open his door, shouting back at the ugly fucker (if Lucas does say so himself) stopped behind them. “Go the fuck around us, asshole!”

The asshole leans out his window to yell back. “Get your head out of your ass and drive!”

“Fuck you!”

“Yeah, I bet you’d like a piece of this ass,” he yells back leering. Is he serious?

“I got the finest piece of ass in all of France sitting right next to me, you fucking loser. Get bent and go the fuck around!”

With one final graphic gesture in Lucas’s direction, he pulls around them and roars his engine as he passes. Stupid, insecure, testosterone-driven meatheads. Lucas collapses back into the seat turning back to Eliott with an eye roll. “Can you believe that? The _audacity_.”

There’s a smile on Eliott’s face that is far too sweet for the scene that just took place.

“What?” Lucas raises his eyebrows in question.

“Nothing,” Eliott shakes his head, looking like it’s entirely _not_ nothing. “You’re just… romantic.”

Lucas snorts in disbelief. “How was _that_ romantic?”

Eliott shrugs, refusing to say any more, leaning forward to peck Lucas quickly on the lips. “Let’s go home.”

Lucas smiles. Can’t help it. Not with the way those words make him feel. He’s _home_. He’d thought it before, when he’d pinned his pictures to his bedroom wall and unpacked his clothing, feeling giddy and happier than he’d ever been. It had never been the room. Lucas knows it now. It’s always been Eliott. Eliott is home. _God_ , maybe he is romantic.

“Yeah,” Lucas leans forward to return a gentle kiss. “Home.” And then just for good measure because he has a reputation to maintain, “Bet Idriss missed me.”

“ _Lucas._ ”

“What?” He smiles, all happy, innocence. “I’m just saying he–”

Eliott cuts him off with a hard kiss and now that Lucas knows Eliott’s chosen tactic in getting him to shut up about Idriss… he should probably warn Idriss that his life might be in danger…

* * * *

The emotional toll of the last few days catches up to Lucas the moment they’re within the safety of Eliott’s room. Despite exhaustion pulling at every bone, they shower before bed. Hands gliding over one another’s wet skin, they don’t do any more than kiss. Leaning heavily into one another they manage no more than scrubbing down one another’s bodies, really just an excuse to feel one another up as Lucas loudly declared when Eliott offered to wash his back.

“You just want an excuse to stare at my ass,” Lucas had snorted.

“I don’t need an excuse to stare at your butt.”

“Then you just want an excuse to feel up my ass.”

“I don’t need an excuse to–”

“Ok, ok, get on with it,” Lucas scoffed, turning himself around, offering himself up to being washed by Eliott. It had turned into a massage more than anything else and lulled Lucas into such a state of relaxation, even drying off and walking to the bed had felt like a far too arduous task. Eliott wasn’t nearly as hopeless as Lucas, a giddy, energetic hum surrounding him. He radiated happiness and in Lucas’s drowsy, exhausted state, he was just happy to bask in the warmth. Eliott had wrapped him in a towel, taking care to dry him off thoroughly. A task Lucas saw for exactly what it was but let Eliott get away with it, if only because Lucas was too sleepy to give him any shit. And now they are happily ensconced in Eliott’s bed, legs and arms intertwined, facing one another.

“You’re going to steal all the covers again, aren’t you?” Eliott whispers, leaving a gentle kiss on the tip of Lucas’s nose.

“Probably,” Lucas admits with a slight smile, blinks slowing to a close.

“Couldn’t you just cuddle me instead?” There’s a definite pout in Eliott’s voice.

“I can do both.”

Quiet settles between them, the sound of Eliott’s rhythmic breaths lulling Lucas to the cusp of sleep.

“Lucas?”

Lucas hums a slight noise of inquiry.

“Will you be my date for Niccolὸ and Martino’s wedding?”

That has Lucas blinking his eyes open to meet Eliott’s tentative smile.

“They haven’t sent invitations yet… have they?”

“No,” Eliott admits. “But when they do. Will you?”

Lucas can’t help the snort of amusement. “Why are you asking me now?”

“Because,” Eliott arms move around Lucas’s back, pulling him a little closer, “I want to go with you. I want to show you off.”

That is just the… _uggghhh_ … the sweetest sentiment. Lucas can’t even call him a dumbass for it without sounding totally insincere. He decides on a different approach. “You know you have this locked down right? You don’t have to ask.”

“Ya but,” Eliott presses his lips to Lucas’s cheek, “I want to plan for the future. With you. I like thinking about it. The things we’ll do together.”

Lucas would really love to call him a no-good-vomit-inducing-romantic. Instead what comes out is, “Love you.”

Eliott leans his head back just enough to connect their gazes, smile wide and bright. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” Lucas agrees before adding, “as long as you promise Charles isn’t on the invite list.”

Eliott’s expression instantly darkens. Lucas can see the anger in it even in the dim light of bedroom. “Charles is never going anywhere near you again.”

“Not sure that’s something you can promise, Princeling.”

“It is.” Eliott’s voice is resolute and one hand moves to cup Lucas’s face. “It is. Manon has made it clear, she will never accept a proposal from him. And his support isn’t worth it. It isn’t worth hurting you. Nothing is worth that. Manon and I have already spoken to our mother about it and his invitation to our home has been indefinitely revoked. His father – the King – is apparently embarrassed enough by his son’s behaviour that there was no disagreement. Charles has caused waves in more than just our home. There are rumblings he’s going to be passed over. It seems likely it will be his cousin, Senne who takes the crown when the time comes.”

“Wow.” It’s a strange feeling, having an issue as big as Charles dealt with and all without Lucas having to play any role in it. It’s going to take some getting used to, someone else looking out for him, taking care of him. “Don’t know that you can control who gets invited to the wedding of an Italian Prince though.”

“Nico won’t allow it. Not with the way Charles treated Marti. There’s no way he’ll be there.”

Lucas had to admit, that does seem likely with the way Niccolὸ spoke of Charles’s last visit and the near fight that resulted. “I guess that also means we won’t get to see Charles being punched in the face by that Gio guy. Would have been nice to have that be my last memory of the asshole instead of…” _The night of the Ball_. He doesn’t say it, but it lays in the air between them.

“I wanted to kill him. The way he touched you. I think I would have tried. If you hadn’t started playing.” Eliott’s hand on Lucas’s face moves up to comb through his hair, a comforting, gentle touch.

“I know.” There’d been no question Eliott has murder on his mind that night. It’s why Lucas had done the only thing he could in the moment.

“Where did you learn to play like that?” Eliott asks, the awe in his voice drawing a blush from Lucas he’s thankful the shadows of the bedroom will likely hide.

“Took lessons for a lot of years when I was a kid. And my mom used to love to play. We’d play together all the time. I stopped when – well I didn’t have a piano around anymore so…” For a time – before it broke – there’d been an electric keyboard at the shelter and Lucas used to play on it regularly. And then eventually there had been the piano at his mom’s home. But neither were a grand piano that’s for sure.

“You were incredible. When you played… I’ve never felt like that before. Looking at you, I just…” Eliott trails off, hand moving to brush a thumb against Lucas’s lower lip.

“What?”

Eliott’s eyes flick up to meet his. “I already knew I was in love with you but when I watched you play, I realized I’d do anything, _anything_ to keep you. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. Love isn’t even a word. It doesn’t feel like enough.”

Lucas knows the feeling. “I’ll play for you. Whenever you want.” It’s his own way of saying it. That there’s never been, never will be, anyone in Lucas’s life he loves the way he does Eliott.

“Do you think we could have your mom come visit? You could play together here. No one uses the piano, but it’s tuned all the time. Seems a waste. Maybe we could even have her visit regularly? We could set up a room just for her and–”

Lucas cuts him off with a kiss, pressing everything he feels into it. _You are amazing. I love you. Thank you_. When he pulls back, Eliott chases his lips before blinking his eyes open slowly, looking a little dazed. “Now go to sleep,” Lucas insists, pushing Eliott back slightly with a hand on his chest, “before I decide I’m not tired anymore and need to be inside you.”

Eliott’s jaw drops open, a small desperate noise escaping him. “You can’t say that and expect me to just go to sleep!”

“Ssshh,” Lucas insists. “Flip over. I want to get my spoon-on.”

“ _Lucaaaaaas_.” It’s a definite whine and Lucas is hard pressed to not break out into a smile.

“I thought you wanted cuddles?” He raises one eyebrow slowly in a clear message: take it or leave it.

Eliott narrows his eyes, lower lip jutting out but with an overly dramatic sigh he rolls over, taking one of Lucas’s hands with him, curling it around his body and pulling Lucas into his back. Lucas goes gladly, molding himself to Eliott and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

Eliott lets out a happy hum. “If I wake up with you hard against me, I don’t care if you’re dead asleep, I’m waking you up and we’re having sex.”

Lucas snorts. “I’m sorry was that supposed to be a threat? Sounds fucking fantastic to me.”

“Just keep it in your pants, farm boy.”

Lucas snickers, pressing the laugh into Eliott’s skin. They both sink into an exhausted sleep quite easily. And in the end, it is Eliott waking him but not for any particularly fun reason. Lucas is shaken awake, jerking to alertness to see Eliott’s face above him looking frantic. The moment Lucas focuses on him, Eliott’s hands come to cup his face. He exhales deeply looking relieved, pressing a quick kiss to Lucas’s forehead.

“Lucas, are you ok? You were saying my name over and over again. You sounded so panicked.”

Lucas can’t remember the dream. But the anxiety is still pumping blood quickly through his veins and there’s an aching sense of loss left behind, tightening his chest, making his breath come out choppy and uneven.

“Were you having a nightmare?” Eliott tries again, stroking gently at Lucas’s face.

“I don’t remember,” Lucas admits in a raspy whisper.

Eliott head drops down until their foreheads are pressed together. He closes his eyes. “God, that scared me. You wouldn’t wake up and you sounded so upset. I couldn’t wake you up.”

“You did.” Lucas brings a hand to pet at Eliott’s hair. “You’re here.” I’m not alone. He doesn’t say it but it’s there between them. “I’m ok.”

“Yeah.”

They breathe, faces pressed together, until another need fills Lucas, quickening his heartbeat for a different reason entirely. He reaches up, arms wrapping around Eliott’s neck, pulling him down and meeting him halfway in a kiss perhaps too desperate for the early hours of the morning, both of them clumsy with sleep. But Lucas knows he’s not alone in it, the sudden need. It’s dark and quiet in the room, only their quickened breath and broken sounds filling the space as they press together. It’s dreamlike and yet achingly real. He feels on the cusp of sleep, as though it’s waiting to claim him on the other side but it’s allowing him this, a heightened state of senses as he touches Eliott, as Eliott touches him. He opens Eliott up gently, no words needed, eyes barely open as they breathe into one another’s mouths. And when he sinks home it’s with a breath of total relief. He never wants to be anywhere else. Only here. With Eliott. Inside Eliott. With Eliott inside him. He’s never felt more at peace. More at home. They come together, holding one another so tightly there’s no purchase available for hard, driving movements. It’s an achingly tender, rocking of bodies that complement one another so perfectly, that brings them to the precipice and then over, tumbling into pleasure together. It feels like cracking apart, everything inside Lucas spilling out and surrounding them in a dense fog, hot and heavy, only to piece back together in a different form, his shape changed but just as whole.

And he’s not afraid. It’s been a long time coming.

* * * *

When Lucas wakes it’s to the sight of Brian’s little eyes staring back from across the room, tongue flicking in the air. Lucas scrunches is face in confusion. There’s a weight pressing him to the bed, and it doesn’t take long to realize it’s Eliott sprawled across his back. They’ve somehow migrated down the bed and lay diagonally across it, sheets a tangled mess between them.

“Eliott,” Lucas whispers, jostling his shoulders slightly when Eliott doesn’t awake. “Princeling.”

Eliott hums, stubble rubbing against Lucas’s back as he nuzzles into the skin.

“Wake up,” Lucas tries again. “Brian’s judging us.”

“What?” Eliott asks, expelling a soft puff of laughter against Lucas’s skin.

“See for yourself.” Lucas wiggles until, with an aggrieved sigh, Eliott sits up, allowing Lucas to do the same. “You see,” Lucas points towards the snake in question. “That’s a judgmental look if I ever saw one.”

“I guess you’d know,” Eliott responds with a wide yawn. Lucas rewards him with a smack across the stomach for his trouble. Eliott lets out an adorable _oof_ before turning to Lucas with a sweet smile, reaching out to run a hand into his hair. “I’m just saying, you understand him.”

“ _Oh god!_ ” Lucas exclaims, a thought suddenly occurring to him. He shoves Eliott’s shoulders hard enough that Eliott loses his balance, flopping to his back on the mattress. “Can snakes see in the dark?”

“What?” Eliott laughs, taking advantage of his position and stretching out on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head, entire body on display. It only distracts Lucas for a split second… a few seconds… barely ten seconds.

He shakes himself out of his looking-at-his-boyfriend’s-hot-body induced thrall, glancing back to Brian. “Brian,” he asks sternly, “did you catch your dad and I having sex?” He hears Eliott giggle behind him and decides to really go for it, hopping out of the bed, adding a little swing to his step as he walks to Brian’s terrarium. “Are you a little traumatized, baby?” He looks back to smirk at Eliott who has turned on his side on the bed and watches Lucas, snickering into his arm. “I know it can be a little scary,” Lucas continues, adopting as serious a tone as he can manage as he speaks to the snake. “But it’s totally natural. You see when two boys love one another… well sometimes even when they don’t… but see we do, and–”

“Lucas, come back here,” Eliott interrupts his ramble, a new intensity to his eyes that Lucas has to say he doesn’t mind one bit.

He turns to fully face Eliott, crossing his arms against his chest, eyebrow cocked. “Why? Brian and I are having a nice little chat. What’s over there for me?”

“Me.”

“Hmmm.” Lucas taps his chin as he contemplates. “Don’t know, Princeling. I mean, Brian has scales. Like that right there makes him one hundred percent cooler than you.”

“Yeah but maybe he’s watching us because he’s curious and it’s your duty to show him how it’s done.”

“Did you just suggest your snake is horny?”

Eliott’s face pulls into a displeased scrunch. “This conversation has gotten really weird.”

Lucas ignores him, gasping as he jogs back to the bed and immediately hops up and onto Eliott, flattening him to the bed as he straddles his stomach. Eliott’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, hands immediately going to Lucas’s waist, looking not at all unhappy with the turn of events.

“Maybe he _is_ horny,” Lucas suggests as he looks down at Eliott.

“Could we stop talking about Brian like this?”

“No but Eliott, I’m serious. Maybe we should look into getting him a lady snake? Wait… was that heteronormative? There are probably gay snakes right? There are lots of gay animals. What if he’s _gay_ , Princeling, and that’s why he’s watching us!”

“I really don’t think he was watching us…” Eliott begins but Lucas is on a roll now.

“My god. All along he was just looking for a good gay example. It’s probably why he hates Idriss.”

“What?” Eliott’s grinning now, definite twinkle of delight in his eye as he looks up at Lucas.

“‘Cause Idriss is lame and heterosexual,” Lucas explains as though Eliott just asked the dumbest question imaginable. “I mean… a man like that… straight. Brian knows what an outrage that is. He’s just expressing his displeasure.”

“Idriss says it’s because Brian is racist.”

“What?! No!” Lucas scoffs outraged. “Brian isn’t racist. I wouldn’t allow that in my home.”

“Your home?” Eliott’s entire face has transformed with the size of his smile. The sight of it is like a shot of straight sunshine to Lucas’s veins.

“That’s right,” Lucas agrees. “No baby of mine is racist.”

He expects another silly repartee from Eliott. Instead he’s thrown onto his back on the bed, Eliott immediately rolling on top of him. The breath is knocked from Lucas, but his body responds instinctually, legs bending to brace at Eliott’s sides, hands going to Eliott’s shoulders, blunt nails digging into the muscle he finds there. He’s already so turned on he’d be concerned for his total lack of self-control if it weren’t for the fact that Eliott is clearly – _very_ clearly – in the exact same state.

Lucas expects an immediate press of lips. He’s waiting for it in fact, eyes half lidded, mouth parted. Instead Eliott stays propped above him, staring down.

“You’re so…” Eliott bites his lower lip, doing absolutely nothing to help Lucas with the self-restraint he’s apparently supposed to be practicing. “You’re so cute.”

It’s not what Lucas expected to hear. But then, maybe he should have. “What is it about me being cute that gets you hot?”

Eliott shrugs, unapologetic grin spreading on his face. “I don’t know. Just like it. Like you.”

“Yeah. You would.” Lucas means for it to come out all mockery and derision. Instead it sounds… _fuck_ … it sounds romantic. Eliott knows it too. Lucas can read the triumph clear as day in his eyes. He brings his body down to blanket Lucas’s, eyes tracing across Lucas’s face, landing on his lips. He begins lowering his head, painfully slowly, but Lucas can be patient. He’s had practice after all. And that’s when the bedroom door slams open.

There’s a sudden flurry of movement and voices. Manon yelling at Idriss. Idriss yelling at Eliott. And then a horrified yelp as Idriss takes in the scene before him.

“Idriss!” Eliott yells, rolling off Lucas and madly scrambling for the covers they had kicked to the end of the bed. “What are you doing? Get out!”

Manon stands behind Idriss, shielding her eyes as she stares down at the floor. “I’m sorry. I tried to stop him. He’s as stubborn as on ox!”

Righteous anger seems to help Idriss in getting over his initial horror at charging in on a naked Eliott and Lucas in a very compromising position. “I waited all damn night! All morning. And he’s _still_ not answering his phone. I have every right to bust in on his stupid, goddamn ass.” The insult is clearly not enough to satisfy and Idriss moves all the way to the side of the bed to smack Eliott at the back of the head.

“Ow!” Eliott cries out, very obviously exaggerating his pain in hopes of gaining some sympathy.

“Yeah, you deserve that and a lot more.” He turns his attention to Lucas, pointing a threatening finger his direction, looking absolutely furious. “And you!”

“You sure this is what you’re here for?” Lucas quickly interrupts. He’s always found distraction works a treat when someone is about to read you the riot act. Throw a little sexual innuendo in there – maybe a little embarrassment – and you’re golden.

“What?” Idriss pauses in his wind up to a rant, confusion flitting across his face. Manon is watching curiously and Lucas glances at her quickly. Judging by the twitch at the corner of her mouth she’ll be game in backing him up.

“I’m just saying…” Lucas gestures to Eliott who’s watching him confusedly before pointing back at himself. “You walk in on us naked… and we all know you’ve had your heart set on a threesome…”

“Oh Jesus,” Idriss groans throwing his head back in anguish.

Lucas doesn’t break, keeping his tone steady but he lets a smirk pull at his mouth. “I think we all know what’s going on here and I’m not so sure I approve. Manon is _right there_ , Idriss. How could you do that to her?”

Manon responds gamely. “It’s a struggle, I admit.” There’s a grave look on her face. “I just wish he would look at me the way he looks at you.”

Lucas breaks. He can’t help it. He lets out a bark of laughter, staring at Manon in awe as she giggles now too.

“I hate you so much,” Idriss grumps miserably, throwing himself face down at the foot of the bed. Still giggling, Manon comes over to rub his back.

“I don’t know that I’d be wanting to put my face on these sheets,” Lucas admits… more to torture Idriss than anything else.

Idriss pushes up from the bed immediately with a disgusted look. “The second we train again, I’m _so_ kicking your ass.” He turns to sit cross-legged, throwing Lucas a displeased look before he glances back towards Manon, reaching and pulling her to sit beside him, tucked beneath his arm.

“Are we having a party then?” Lucas asks. “Because the sort of parties that would involve me naked with multiple people are not really parties I’m into, I have to admit.”

“I swear to… why the hell did I ever want you back here?” Idriss complains, getting up from the bed and moving to Eliott’s dresser to root out some clothing. He tosses them both t-shirts and sweatpants.

“Don’t be rude,” Eliott chastises, pulling the t-shirt over his head and then fumbling awkwardly under the covers as he pulls on his sweatpants.

Lucas hops out of the bed entirely instead. Far easier to get changed that way. For no other reason. Definitely not to torture all parties involved.

“Lucas!” Eliott yells, reaching for him though he can’t reach.

Manon giggles and Idriss launches forward to cover her eyes.

“What?” Lucas smirks unabashed. “Everybody here has seen a naked guy before.”

“Lucas, put your pants on!” Eliott insists furiously. “Idriss, stop looking at him!”

“I’m not looking at him!” Idriss yells, still holding a hand to Manon’s eyes though she doesn’t seem at all upset about it, smile wide as she leans back against him.

Lucas slides the sweatpants up, cinching them at the waist and tossing the t-shirt aside, deciding to forgo it. Not at all because it’s fun to get Eliott riled up. Nor is that the reason he crawls back into the bed and slaps at Eliott’s legs where he rests propped against the headboard until he parts them, allowing Lucas to sit in the cradle of them, pressed back against his chest. Idriss watches Lucas with deep suspicion but removes the hand from Manon’s eyes.

She squeals a little at the sight of them. “You two are so sweet!”

“Lucas is sweet,” Eliott responds, wrapping his arms around Lucas’s chest, squeezing him tightly in a hug from behind and pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. 

Lucas and Idriss simultaneously gag at the saccharine proclamation, catching one another’s eyes in the shared humour of the moment before they both give in to it, laughing as though they’d just heard the best joke in the world.

“You guys are both dickheads,” Eliott grumbles as their laughter ebbs down, but his arms don’t loosen around Lucas.

“Dickheads?” Idriss comments surprised. He looks at Lucas. “I don’t know whether to say you’ve been a bad or good influence.”

“The best, dear Idriss. The best.” He pets Eliott’s hands against his chest, turning his head to press a kiss to Eliott’s cheek.

Eliott reacts adorably, ducking his head down into Lucas’s neck with a blush. He has a habit of making himself appear smaller anytime he’s especially pleased with the affection Lucas bestows on him, and he scrunches himself down, curling around Lucas’s back in a tight hug.

“I feel like this is asking the obvious,” Idriss begins, “but you guys got shit sorted then? You’re good?”

Before either of them can answer there’s a knock on the open door and then Lucille is walking into the bedroom, quickly followed by Chloe. At the sight of Lucas, Chloe shrieks, an ear-splitting sound, and sprints across the room. Lucas barely manages to escape Eliott’s hold in time, leaning far enough forward that she’s able to tackle him in a hug without Eliott getting caught in the fray. She latches arms around his neck, landing in his lap as she crushes him in a tight hug. Lucas returns the affection, arms wrapping around her back to hold her just as snugly.

“You’re back? You’re back!” She doesn’t release her hold, just leaning back enough to cup his face. “Are you ok? You’re staying right? I missed you so much. I was so mad!” She throws a fairly impressive glare Eliott’s direction that has Lucas snorting. “But things are better now, right? I don’t want you to leave again.”

“Babe,” Lucas interrupts her, sure that if he didn’t, she wouldn’t have stopped for at least another five minutes, “slow down. Yes, I’m back. I wasn’t even gone long. No need for the dramatics.”

She makes a displeased noise, releasing his face to smack his chest instead. “Don’t be a jerk! I was really upset.”

“I know, babe, I know. I’m sorry.” He reaches forward to tuck her hair behind her ears. “Things with me and the idiot Prince got sorted. I’m not going anywhere. Not ever again.”

“You know, I am right here,” Eliott states from behind Lucas.

Chloe sits back from Lucas, looking immediately at Eliott and crossing her arms against her chest. “Oh I know. And you’re the reason he left.” She directs a threatening pointed finger his way. “If you ever hurt him again–”

“Chloe,” Lucas cuts in, trying his best to hold back the laughter bubbling in his throat. He grabs her hand, lowering it to less threatening levels, “I appreciate the defense. Really, I do. But,” he glances back at Eliott where he sits, now with Lucille beside him, arm wrapped around his shoulders, “he’s not the only asshole in this situation. I made the choice to leave. It was the wrong choice.”

“I could have told you that,” she scoffs with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “If you had just listened. But _noooo,_ you just have to be stubborn. You are always standing in the way of your own happiness, you know.”

“Alright, alright. No need to go listing all my flaws, ok? I’m having a good morning.” He scooches back on the bed to curl into Eliott’s side this time. Eliott’s arm comes to immediately wrap around his shoulders, drawing him in more snugly with a kiss to the side of his forehead.

“But what’s the deal then? You guys are officially together, right? So, what does that mean?” Wow. Count on Chloe to go right for the throat with the tough questions. Idriss smothers a laugh into his hand from behind Chloe, Manon at his side looking equally amused.

“Baby,” Lucille responds before Lucas can collect his thoughts. She moves to Chloe, perching on the bed next to her and resting a hand on her thigh, “they haven’t had two seconds just to be together. Maybe give them a break, yeah?”

Chloe pouts, wrapping and arm around Lucille to pull her in front so Chloe can rest her chin on Lucille’s shoulder as she looks at Lucas and Eliott. “I just want to know what’s going to happen now. This is a big deal isn’t it? Lucas and Eliott being together? Manon and Idriss. You and me. I just want to know everyone is going to be ok. Like… what’s going to happen now?”

Lucas doesn’t know how to respond. Chloe is speaking aloud all of his own unspoken questions. Where do they go from here? It’s one thing to declare your love for one another, to state your total commitment to making it work… it’s a different problem entirely to enact those promises when the situation is complicated by the expectations of an entire country, and by a parent who also happens to be the Queen. He doesn’t know how to answer. Lucas knows he and Eliott are on the same page but the logistics of what that means are still a bit of a mystery.

“Things are going to change,” Eliott speaks into the contemplative silence. He turns his head a little to look at Lucas. Though he’s addressing the room, he speaks specifically to Lucas. “We can’t keep doing things the way we have. We don’t want to. Manon and I…” Eliott looks briefly towards his sister who nods in encouragement, “we’ve discussed some things with our mother. There’s a lot more to figure out but – well, we – what I mean is–”

Manon speaks, cutting right to the point. “Eliott and I will be, for all intents and purposes, taking over all decision making on behalf of the Royal family. We’ll be doing so in a co-leadership fashion. Essentially we will be in control in every way but on the surface.”

“What does that mean?” Lucas asks looking between Eliott and Manon.

“Our mother remains Queen. For now. As far as the public at large is concerned, whatever changes happen are her doing,” Eliott explains, looking back to Manon for confirmation that he’s explained this correctly. She nods.

“But why would you want that?” He’s not sure what he’s missing here, but Lucas is pretty sure it’s something significant.

“Eliott and I plan to change a lot of things. We want to at least try to make a positive difference. But people resist change. And we’ll be restructuring entirely how the monarchy in France works: how money is allocated, how residences are used, formal titles… everything. There is bound to be a lot of…” She shrugs a little and Idriss finishes the sentence for her.

“Clapback. People are assholes. They’re gonna be like, ‘You wanna help the poor? Fucks that all about?! You want to tax me and my millions more? What do you mean I won’t be able to buy a fourth mansion this year? Fuck you and your entire family!’”

It’s a colourful illustration of the situation as a whole that makes them all laugh. But there’s a lot of truth to it too. And Lucas pieces together why they’ve chosen to go about it this way.

“So, your mom remains figurehead,” the irony of the situation – and word – is not lost on him, “and any anger ends up directed her way.”

Eliott nods, looking serious. “It’s not ideal and it won’t stay that way forever but… she’s ruled for a long time. The people love and trust her. If Manon and I were to take over and suddenly start making all these changes…”

“People would riot in the streets,” Lucille chips in with a snort. “Doesn’t matter if the change is to benefit them – people do _not_ like change.”

“People are stupid,” Idriss grumbles.

“Eliott and I plan to step forward together as public figures for the family,” Manon adds. “As changes are made, we’ll be seen, at least peripherally, as being involved.”

“Ease the transition.” Lucas nods in dawning comprehension. It makes sense. To do things in increments. To familiarize the public with their faces and good deeds prior to announcing their leadership.

“Think of all the things we can do,” Eliott cuts in, voice bubbling with excitement. “The apprenticeship program can be enormous now. The entire Palace can become a working backdrop for it. This space – this wealth – it wouldn’t be wasted! Funding for shelters like Alexia’s, and affordable housing. Even Alexia’s employment program could be expanded. Run through here. We have a contact at one of the youth centres and we could fund programming there too. Sofiane. And Imane – her too. A connection to the medical field. Maybe even a clinic? Connect all of them! We can even work out a model to fund scholarships for those in need… there’s just so much we can do.”

He’s literally never been sexier in Lucas’s eyes. It’s taking every ounce of self-control Lucas has ever possessed not to kiss Eliott’s face off right this moment, quickly followed by kicking everyone else out and not leaving bed for days.

“The Queen is really going to let all of this happen?” Chloe asks, thankfully distracting Lucas from his own entirely too lusty thoughts.

“The transition likely won’t be seamless,” Manon admits. “But she’s handed us control – not just in theory, but in all legal capacities. It might not be how she’d do things, but she loves us both. She doesn’t want to lose us. And she would have. If she hadn’t agreed to this. She knows it. We made it very clear to her.” She and Eliott exchange a significant look. “And maybe she’s expecting us to fail but she’s going to let us try anyways. That’s all that matters.”

“And you won’t fail,” Idriss adds, pressing a kiss to the side of Manon’s head. She smiles at him lovingly.

“We don’t have to change the world overnight,” Eliott replies. Lucas recognizes the words with a physical jolt to his chest. He turns his head to look at Eliott with mouth agape. Eliott is smiling at him in reply. “We don’t have to change everything all at once right? We can start small. Start with the apprenticeship program and make it the most incredible opportunity for those kids that we can. Then we go from there. We’re not doing it alone.”

“Everybody out.” Lucas says it calmly, still looking directly at Eliott.

“What?” Idriss snorts from the end of the bed.

Lucas rounds on them. “Everyone out!” He yells it now as they all stare at him looking shocked.

“You’re kicking us out?” Chloe asks, mouth hanging open. “But we’re hanging out. I missed you!”

It’s sweet. Truly. And Lucas could not care less than he does at the current moment.

“Yes, missed you too. Blah blah blah. Out!” He hops up from the bed and begins pushing them all off. Manon and Lucille start laughing but thankfully do so while pulling their respective lovers from the bed.

“You are something else,” Idriss scoffs as Manon drags him towards the door and Lucas shoos them from behind. “You’re really throwing us out just to bang? Even though you’ve probably been going at it all night and could just have waited until we all left.”

“Yes, yes,” Lucas comments, pushing Idriss’s back to hurry along the process, “we’ll discuss your desire to stay and watch another time. Get out.”

“I fucking hate you,” Idriss groans hauling a laughing Manon out of the room with him.

“You’ll come see me later?” Chloe asks, pausing at the door, pout firmly in place, puppy dog eyes dialed to one hundred.

“Of course,” Lucas agrees, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before unceremoniously shoving her into Lucille’s waiting arms in the hall. He hears both of them laugh as he’s swinging the bedroom door shut with a resounding bang. A quick flick of his wrist has the lock latching with a satisfying click. He turns to look back at Eliott, who’s now standing next to the bed, arms crossed against his chest, face spread in a thoroughly amused smile.

“You really couldn’t wait?”

Lucas grins. There’s far too much space between them. Sure he could close the distance like a reasonable human being, but when has behaving reasonably ever gotten him anywhere? It’s about as effective as subtly. And yes, he would gladly argue with Eliott on that fact. Instead, he sprints across the room.

“Lucas, wait–”

But Lucas is done waiting and he leaps. Eliott catches him as Lucas knew he would. Stumbling slightly back as Lucas wraps his legs around his waist, arms going around Eliott’s neck.

“No, I’m done waiting,” Lucas says grinning down at Eliott.

Eliott’s hands run down Lucas’s back to his ass, gripping tightly before he spins and throws Lucas down on the bed, landing on top of him. There’s nothing clumsy about it. No hitting of heads together, no crushing of Lucas’s chest… it’s smooth as fuck…

“Jesus, Princeling. Where have those moves been?” Lucas gasps, staring up at Eliott.

“What are you talking about?” Eliott smirks. “Been using those moves on you the whole time.”

“No. I definitely would have noticed,” Lucas disagrees, eyes dragging unwittingly down to Eliott’s lips. He just… really needs to be kissed. Any time now.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Eliott nods, his attempts at looking serious an abysmal failure. “I mean if my moves had worked, you’d probably be in bed with me right now, begging to be kissed.”

“I’m not begging.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Bet I can make you.” Eliott looks smug and happy, so very happy. Lucas might have wanted Eliott from the very moment he met him at ten years old but he never imagined this, he never imagined it would be this good, that he could love him this much… that Eliott would be better than anything he ever could have dreamed up… better than any fairy-tale Prince.

“Eliott,” Lucas breathes, bringing hands up to thread back into Eliott’s hair where he hovers above, “let’s do it.”

“That was the plan,” Eliott smirks.

“No, you idiot,” Lucas laughs despite himself. “I mean… that too. You’re definitely not getting out of this bed again until at least a couple orgasms apiece have happened.”

“At least, hunh?” Eliott quirks an eyebrow at the challenge.

“That’s right. But that’s not what I meant.” Lucas pulls his lower lips into his mouth, biting down on it as he breathes in a fortifying breath. “I want everything you said. All of your plans. I want it. With you.”

Eliott stares down at him looking awed. “You want to make plans.”

“I want to make plans. The two of us.” Lucas doesn’t fight the smile growing on his face. It’s hard not to smile when Eliott is staring at him like _that_. Like Lucas is the best thing he’s ever seen. “We’re better together, yeah?”

“Yeah. We’re better together.” Eliott’s eyes are glassy now. “I want everything with you.”

Lucas can feel emotion filling his own eyes and this is just getting far too sentimental considering what he had in mind when he kicked out all the others. “So you’ve said. Run out of romantic one-liners have you?”

Eliott grins, responding immediately to the teasing as Lucas knew he would. “Well you have a hard head. Sometimes it takes a few times for it to sink in. I’ve learned from past mistakes.”

Lucas snorts. “Is that right, sasspup? Pretty sure you like my hard head.”

“Was that supposed to be a dirty joke?”

“Honestly? I’m not even sure.”

“You idiot,” Eliott laughs. “I love you.”

Lucas means to respond with banter. He does. Instead what comes out is heartfelt honesty.

“I’ve only ever loved you.”

Eliott drops his head to press their foreheads together, brushing his nose against Lucas’s. “I hate to tell you this but… that was pretty romantic,” he whispers.

“You’re right. Let’s get back to that thing you said about making me beg.”

“You aren’t going to be able to distract me. You’re romantic. You love me and you’re romantic.”

“Shut your filthy mouth.” Lucas leans up to bite at his lip.

Eliott snickers, pulling back to grin down at Lucas in delight. “You want to buy me flowers and read me poetry and get married and have my babies.”

“That’s it!” Lucas shoves Eliott off him, rolling towards the edge of the bed slowly enough Eliott will absolutely be able to grab him before he makes it. “Brian and I are leaving!”

“No, no. I’m sorry,” Eliott giggles, latching onto Lucas’s waist and dragging him back. He resettles himself hovering above, between Lucas’s legs. “You’re not romantic at all. Definitely not the most romantic, loving, caring boy I’ve ever known.”

“Well as long as we’ve got that sorted.” Lucas spreads his legs a little further, shifting in obvious suggestion. 

“May I proceed then?” One of Eliott’s hands moves down Lucas’s chest until it reaches the band of the sweatpants, hooking there.

“Oh yes, please,” Lucas smirks, eyebrow raised. “Make me beg. Give it to me. Show me what you got. Bring me to my knees.” And yes, he knows he’s being a complete and utter shit, and yet Eliott is looking down at him like Lucas just proposed marriage.

“Hey, Lucas?”

“Mmm?” Lucas hums, smug tilt to his smile.

Eliott drops his lips to Lucas’s ear. “I really, really fucking love you.”

Oh… that is just not playing fair at all. “Asshole.”

Eliott laughs, loud and happy. And then they’re kissing. Lucas had known it then, at just thirteen years old. He hadn’t been wrong. Eliott is it. The love of Lucas’s life. The only man he’ll ever kiss. Total and complete asshole.

* * * * 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't get mushy and talk about this fic ending because there's still a bonus chapter and epilogue to come! But I hope you enjoyed how the story wrapped up, and like... your guys' support and comments and messages mean the world to me and *sniffles* 
> 
> My tumblr: surrealsunday
> 
> A couple random notes:  
> \- I reserve the right to change 'Senne' to someone else if wtfock decides to destroy his character in season 4 (I'm at full 'not trusting any of these skam writers' stage ;)  
> \- My bestie is a lawyer and a great resource for legal questions but still... I obviously expect you to suspend disbelief a wee bit when it comes to any legal details in this fic


	12. Bonus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this chapter somehow ended up being the longest in the entire fic... yeah, I don't know how that happened either. It was and is a serious beast. I'm likely not even done editing but for now I must just finally suck it up and post so... I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Chapter heading graphic courtesy of Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr) who was very sick and still got this done so thank youuuuu <3

* * * * 

* * * * 

“Baby, it’s time to get up.”

“No,” Lucas complains, burying himself deeper in the swath of blankets he stole the moment Eliott left the bed to use the bathroom. Because of course he did. “It’s cold. I’m never getting out of bed.”

“Yes, well,” Eliott chuckles softly, hand coming down to pet gently at Lucas’s hair as he sits on the edge of the bed, “that’s not going to change where we’re headed. Need I remind you it was _your_ idea.”

In fact, the ski trip had been _entirely_ Lucas’s suggestion. And Eliott knows Lucas is excited about it. He hasn’t shut up about it for the past week. That he’s currently refusing to get out of bed is absolutely born out of a desire to annoy Eliott whenever opportunity arises. Jokes on him though. Eliott just thinks he’s adorable.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lucas replies, eyes firmly squeezed shut. _Adorable_.

“Oh no?” Eliott moves to lay down next to him on the bed.

“No.” Lucas buries his face down into the covers, but it does nothing to hide the smile growing on his face. He’s so unbelievably cute sometimes, he doesn’t even seem real.

“No? You just planning on staying in bed forever then?”

Lucas nods. Eliott props himself on a bent arm as he combs his other hand through Lucas’s hair, grinning when he sees one of Lucas’s eyes open to peer at him, before quickly shutting.

“Hmmm.” Eliott does his absolute best to hold back the laughter that wants to escape as he stares down at his absolutely ridiculous boyfriend. “Won’t be the same without you but… I guess if you want to spend the week here alone with my mom, we’ll manage.”

Lucas’s eyebrows immediately furrow, displeasure instantly clear despite his refusal to open his eyes and Eliott just barely represses a snort of laughter. While his mother and Lucas have come to an uncomfortable sort of understanding, it is anything but friendly. She recognizes Lucas is and will always be in Eliott’s life. Lucas recognizes the same about her. And so, they’d called a ceasefire without verbally acknowledging the situation at all. It is far less than ideal but they made it work. Eliott wasn’t on particularly friendly terms with his mother either after all. But they all were doing their best to understand one another which was at least more than could be said for years past. And she would be leaving following the Christmas holiday. They’d agreed it would be best for all parties concerned if she established residence at one of the rural properties. On the surface, it was logical to have her retreat from the public eye while Manon and Eliott established themselves as leaders. The real reason however was far more complex. No one could move forward with her still present. No one could fully heal from wounds of the past with her here, reminding them of every misdeed, every breach of trust, every painful mistake. Most importantly, Lucas was uncomfortable sharing a home with her. He has never openly said so, but Eliott knows it’s true. And Eliott won’t – he _can’t_ – build a life with Lucas, with the toxic presence of his mother looming over them.

But even with the prospect of soon being rid of her presence, Lucas would no more spend time alone with Eliott’s mother than chew off his own leg.

“I’m sure we’ll do just fine without you,” Eliott adds for good goading-his-boyfriend measure.

Lucas reacts quickly, throwing the covers over Eliott before he follows, rolling until he’s perched atop Eliott’s stomach, glaring down with an unimpressed shake of his head, made less effective by the smile pulling at his mouth. “Dickhead.”

Eliott hums happily, hands travelling down Lucas’s back until they reach his butt, resting there comfortably. God, he really loves Lucas’s butt. “Got you moving, didn’t it?”

Lucas quirks an eyebrow, leaning down to prop his arms at the side of Eliott’s head so his face hovers just above. “You really think this is going to lead to us getting out of bed?”

Eliott leans up until he’s slightly able to brush their lips together. Just as Lucas’s eyes begin to shut expecting a kiss, Eliott sits upright, pulling Lucas into him by the butt as he swings his legs out of the bed and stands up.

“Eliott!” Lucas cries out, latching arms and legs around Eliott to keep from crashing to the floor. Eliott wouldn’t have let that happen anyways. Silly boy.

He pats Lucas on the bum. “Out of bed, yeah?” He starts walking towards the bathroom, Lucas held tightly in his arms.

“Where are we going?” Lucas sounds breathless and Eliott’s hands tighten slightly on him in response. He knows this gets to Lucas. Eliott is naturally more lithely built but he’s strong. He is also more than aware Lucas likes being reminded of that fact.

“Shower,” he responds with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Lucas rolls his eyes. “You really think you can suggest a shower without me pulling you in there with me?”

“No.” Having reached the bathroom, Eliott plops Lucas down on the counter, spreading hands on his thighs and pecking him quickly on the mouth. “I think we’re going to shower. I’m going to suck you off. Then we’re going to get ready and go on a trip to the mountains with our friends where we’re going to do nothing but drink hot chocolate, ski, and make love.”

Lucas stares at him, mouth dropped open. There is nothing Eliott likes more than catching him off guard. “I… ok.”

Eliott laughs, moving to turn the shower on before he begins stripping, delighting in the way Lucas watches him. Once entirely naked, he turns back towards Lucas, pausing to let Lucas take in his fill. Lucas is shameless about it, eyes travelling slowly across Eliott’s body in a way that makes it extremely hard not to leap forward and touch him. But it’s best to let Lucas do things at his own pace. It’s something Eliott understood early in getting to know Lucas, but not something he always finds the easiest to allow in practice.

After a torturous few minutes, Lucas hops off the counter. He strips himself of his shirt, stepping out of his briefs too, before moving in front of Eliott. Lucas rests his hands on Eliott’s abs, sending a shiver ricocheting through Eliott’s body, before pressing a kiss to his chest, just above his heart.

“Mine.”

It’s barely a whisper. Eliott isn’t even sure if Lucas says it to be heard or only for himself. It makes Eliott’s heart skip a beat. Lucas is just so… achingly romantic… without ever meaning to be. He’s the most loving, romantic boy Eliott has ever know. How Eliott possibly got lucky enough to have Lucas love him, claim Eliott as his own… he’ll never truly understand. But he’s certainly not about the question it.

Eliott moves forward, pressing a hard kiss to Lucas’s mouth, before pulling him back and towards the shower. Lucas follows, pliable and soft in Eliott’s hands. Grip tight on Lucas’s sides, Eliott lifts, turning and resettling Lucas on the tile of the shower, just outside the stream of water. Lucas startles, breaking their kiss, clearly flustered by the manhandling and very obviously trying not to let it show. Eliott expects the bluster that follows.

“Who do you think you are tossing me about like some rag doll, Princeling?!” Lucas huffs, all false bravado. He shoves Eliott back against the wall of the shower. Eliott gladly goes, pressing himself against the cool tile and watching as Lucas moves backwards into the stream of the shower, tipping his head back to let the warm water stream over his hair. He looks at Eliott with a smirk, water running down the length of his body. He knows exactly what he’s doing. God, Eliott loves him so much. “Not sure I want you in here with me anymore… gonna be shoving me around like that.”

“No?” Eliott smiles, pulling his lower lip into his mouth and biting down as he lets his eyes glide down Lucas’s body. They’re both turned on. There’s no hiding it. There’s also no guarantee that will lead to any sort of satisfaction if Eliott doesn’t play his cards right. Lucas is stubborn. Especially in the mornings. “Anything I can do to make it up to you?”

Lucas’s mouth twists in an attempt to hide his amusement. He’s running his hands back through his hair in the stream of water in a way that is putting his body on full display, muscles of his arms bulging and abs contracting as he arches his back. If Eliott doesn’t get his hands on him soon he’s going to lose his mind. “I don’t know,” Lucas hums, and Eliott can tell by the way Lucas’s eyes keep falling on him before quickly flicking away that he’s growing impatient with their teasing too. “What do I deserve?”

It’s not what Eliott expected him to say. ‘What’d you have in mind?’ or ‘Why don’t you show me,’ sure. But ‘What do I deserve?’ asked with that sweet, uncertain lilt to Lucas’s voice? He really doesn’t know his own power. And it’s way too good an opening not to take advantage of the romantic potential – no matter how much Lucas is going to complain. He not-so-secretly loves it anyways. Eliott moves forward, hands closing around Lucas’s waist, and presses a quick kiss to his nose, which instantly scrunches in response. Adorable.

“Everything,” Eliott responds. “You deserve everything. Anything I can give, I’ll give it to you.”

Lucas’s face flushes instantly, giving away his obvious pleasure at the proclamation, despite the way he tries to cover with an eyeroll and huff of breath against Eliott’s lips. “You’re so lame.”

Eliott chuckles, humming in agreement. “And you love me.”

“Shut up.” Lucas bites Eliott’s lower lip and then he’s… dropping to his knees. _Oh god._

“Lucas,” Eliott whispers overcome, “I said – I was going to – to you…” He’s making very little sense, but he knows Lucas will understand him anyways.

“Ssshhh,” Lucas hushes him, pressing a kiss to his hip bone. “I want to.”

“Lucas…” Eliott begins. He’s not even sure what he wants to say. There’s so much. So much he feels for Lucas. His intentions to do so however are cut off by Lucas biting down on his thigh – _not_ gently. Eliott yelps, looking down to where Lucas is looking back up at him.

“You say one more romantic thing, I’m getting myself off and you can just fend for yourself, got it?”

Eliott snorts, bringing a hand to Lucas’s slicked back hair. “Got it.” He sighs happily as Lucas starts pressing kisses to his skin. And he should really stop while he’s ahead but… “Definitely won’t say anything about loving you so much I feel like people can read it all over my body sometimes.” Lucas’s teeth graze his skin. A warning. “Also won’t say anything about you being the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

So maybe it results in Lucas giving it to him a lot more roughly than he would have otherwise, and teasing Eliott to the point he thinks he’s actually going to pass out before he has the chance to come but… that’s worth it too. It always will be. Because Lucas deserves to know.

* * * *

They’d decided to rent one cabin – not the most extravagant available. It had taken Eliott long enough to convince Lucas that they really did need, at the very least, a cabin that would allow all the couples separate bedrooms. He wasn’t about to press his luck beyond that.

When it came to spending money, Lucas wasn’t necessarily cheap – more, incredibly frugal. He hated extravagance. And Eliott was aware Lucas seemed to feel guilty any time he enjoyed a luxury that went beyond basic survival. It made spoiling him in any way quite a challenge. But the ski trip had been Lucas’s idea which helped. He’d wanted a chance to go away to celebrate Christmas, before the actual holiday, which they would be spending at the Palace with both of their mothers.

Eliott suspects Lucas suggesting this holiday was more for his benefit than for Lucas’s. The last few weeks had been wonderful but stressful. Working out the details for the apprenticeship program had been in full swing. And while they were all incredibly excited to kick-off the program, there seemed to be an endless amount of details to coordinate. On top of that, a press release announcing the respective romantic relationships of the “Royal twins” had added to everyone’s general anxiety. Their family have always been very limited in information offered to the Press. It was a practice established by his mother, often to unnecessary extremes, but in this case, the precedent for brevity was welcome. No more information had been offered other than Eliott and Manon being in happy relationships, including the names of their partners. While they had of course expected the immediate public scrutiny of both Idriss and Lucas, Eliott knew the constant dissection of every aspect of Lucas’s life, and the headlines that read the Prince was in a relationship with not only a man but a ‘commoner’ and ‘ _street kid_ ’, took a toll. Lucas’s paternal ancestry had not yet made headlines but that too was inevitable. The increased stress had thankfully only brought them closer. They’d take comfort in one another when everything seemed a little too much. And in the dark, pressed closely together in their bed, they found release in one another’s bodies. And when even that wasn’t enough, Lucas had his training as an outlet. Eliott too tried to find more productive ways of handling the stress, but it wore on him nevertheless and Lucas, for all his prickly posturing, was a big ol’ softie who noticed.

So, Eliott hadn’t been totally surprised when Lucas had suggested they all get away before the additional stress of the holidays, and in particular, the hive-inducing thought of their mothers’ coming together. Lucas was one to show his concern with action. It’s one of the things Eliott loved best about him. He wouldn’t tell Eliott to stop or slow down – any more than he’d tell himself to do so – but respond by offering an outlet, a healthy way to decompress with loved ones? That was a Lucas thing to do. And Eliott had immediately agreed.

Initially they hadn’t been planning to include all the others. That is until Lucas had made the _brilliant_ decision to mention the idea to Idriss while the two of them had been training, and Idriss had immediately invited himself and Manon along. It’s not that Eliott was against spending time with his sister and best friend of course… it’s just that they all loved Lucas. And while Eliott certainly didn’t blame them, it did mean sharing Lucas’s time. And then of course, much to Eliott’s grumbling, what included Idriss and Manon expanded to include Lucille and Chloe… and then Yann… who had protested he wasn’t going to be the only single one on the trip… and so Alexia too had been added to the guest roster. Eliott might not be thrilled at the thought of so many people vying for the attention of _his_ boyfriend – and they would, everyone wanted Lucas’s attention – but the joy it brought Lucas knowing he was going to be enjoying a vacation with so many people he loved was obvious, and Eliott wasn’t about to stand in the way of that. Just the opposite in fact. Every time Lucas had shown a hint of discomfort with the money required for their plans, Eliott had offered a solution. The result was one large ski cabin with just the bare essentials and enough room to fit them all. The only detail Eliott had ‘forgotten’ to mention to Lucas was the hot tub. There was just no way they were renting a ski cabin _without_ a hot tub and Eliott would deal with whatever complaints about extravagance Lucas would inevitably dole out later.

When they enter the cabin, Eliott is surprised to realize it’s actually a lot more spacious than he was expecting. In fact, some might even call this _luxurious_ , he thinks, throwing a nervous look towards Lucas walking just ahead. The main space is rustically decorated, an enormous stone fireplace serving as the focal point. Plush furniture surrounds it. A modern looking kitchen opens at the back of the space, with a hallway leading to a couple of the bedrooms. The rest of which can be found on the second floor.

“Dammnnnn!” Idriss yells following Lucas and Eliott into the space. “This is what I’m talking about. Well done, bro.” He claps a hand on Eliott’s shoulder, and while Eliott appreciates the praise, Idriss’s reaction will do nothing to dissuade Lucas from thinking the wool had been pulled over his eyes and Eliott rented a cabin far more extravagant than they had agreed.

As it is, Lucas has turned to look at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Before he’s even able to defend himself however, the rest of their friend’s pile in, raucous noise accompanying them.

“Oh shit,” Alexia laughs, “you know how to do it up, baby bro.” She moves forward to kiss Lucas on the cheek. Lucas’s expression doesn’t change, his gaze on Eliott unwavering. Eliott is _so_ not getting laid tonight unless he has a chance to assure Lucas this cabin really did cost exactly what they discussed.

Chloe squeals as she skips into the space, dragging Lucille after her. “Oh my god, this is amazing!” She swings around to wrap her arms around Lucille’s shoulders, kissing her girlfriend soundly. “Let’s go find our room!”

That statement gets the whole room going. Suddenly everyone is dashing off to claim rooms with much laughter and shouting accompanying the chaos. Lucas doesn’t move and so, neither does Eliott. It doesn’t matter what room they get anyways. As long as Lucas is there. And _that_ thought would absolutely be considered way too romantic if Lucas were to hear it. In fact, he’d probably blush _so_ prettily if Eliott had said that out loud. Eliott makes a note to remember to do so later… when they’re alone and he can thoroughly explore just how far the blush goes.

“It’s not more than we discussed.” Seems best just to start off with full-on defence seeing as Eliott already knows he’s in trouble and there is absolutely no justifiable reason for it. “It’s only because we have so many people staying in one place – it splits the cost. And it’s just more impressive than the pictures made it look.” Ok, stop defending now. The more he talks, the more suspicious Lucas will find his excuses. And they’re _not_ excuses. Not really. Not when they’re the truth.

“Are you saying I don’t deserve to be spoiled with a nice cabin?”

 _What?_ What does he… “No!” Eliott sputters rushing to explain. “Of course not. You deserve everything! We can get a nicer cabin. We can get whatever you want–”

The curl of a smile at the side of Lucas’s mouth is the only thing that stops Eliott from rambling for another five minutes about all the ways he’d spoil Lucas if given the chance. His mouth drops open instead.

“You’re not mad?”

Lucas snorts, moving forward to wrap his arms around Eliott’s neck with a grin. “I’m not mad, you idiot.” He curls his body forward, pressing his face into Eliott’s neck, and its only natural for Eliott to wrap his arms around Lucas pulling them even more tightly together as he drops his face to breath in that touch of spice that is uniquely Lucas. “I know you wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want,” Lucas mumbles, breath warm against Eliott’s neck.

“So you were just giving me trouble for no reason,” Eliott comments unnecessarily. They both know that’s exactly what Lucas was doing.

Lucas hums in what is likely the only confirmation Eliott is going to get. He lifts his head to smile. “So what room is ours?”

Eliott scoffs. “Whatever room is left now. You had to go distracting me and now they’re all claimed.”

“Eliott Demaury,” Lucas begins, and it instantly sounds like Eliott is in trouble again, “are you saying you didn’t claim the best room before we got here? When you’re the one who rented the cabin? And now we’re going to be stuck with the shittiest room? Have I taught you nothing when it comes to priorities?!”

“I have my priorities.” He let’s his hands slide down Lucas’s back until they reach his butt. And while his plan had been to use this line only when they were alone… they could be. Very quickly. If motivated. “It doesn’t matter anyways. As long as you’re there, I don’t care what room we get.”

Lucas’s reaction is just as rewarding as Eliott expected it to be. He blushes immediately, cheeks going a delightful pink that extends down his neck. It’s accompanied by an eye roll of course, and he pushes away from Eliott, turning and walking towards the hall leading from the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Eliott asks dumbly, staring after him.

Lucas throws a cheeky smile over his shoulder. “Going to find our room,” there’s a definite sway to his hips as he walks, “see if you’re all talk or willing to prove it.”

Eliott grins. Oh, he’ll prove it.

* * * *

* * * *

It’s only the thought of dinner that convinces them leaving their room is necessary. Naturally when they do, they’re met with endless ribbing about what kept them so long. Lucas of course gives as good as he gets and Eliott is happy to hide behind him as he lays into Idriss.

“I’m sorry but who did I walk in on going at it in the gym, hunh? ‘Least Eliott and I choose appropriate places.”

“We were not going at it!” Idriss squawks indignant.

“I mean,” Manon smiles where she sits alone at the kitchen bench table, “we were definitely about to.”

“Hah!” Lucas yells, loud and victorious as Idriss turns to look at Manon, looking torn between betrayal and utter adoration. “Knew it! You dirty bastard. In _my_ gym.” It sends tingles up Eliott’s spine to hear Lucas call it that. He loves that Lucas thinks of the gym that way. Of the Palace that way. That it’s his home too.

“Oh please,” Yann suddenly pipes up as he roots through the fridge until he finds the beer he’s looking for. “Like you and Eliott haven’t gone at it in there too. I mean, you two heathens desecrated my kitchen. You have no room to talk.”

Yann knows about the kitchen? Eliott has to admit to feeling a wee bit embarrassed by that. The Palace’s Head Chef knows he and Lucas had sex right in his kitchen. Does he know where? What they did?

“Yann!” Lucas yells at the same moment Idriss starts shouting.

“You did it in the kitchen? Oh my god, where in the kitchen? Tell me it was nowhere near the table! It was wasn’t it?! The table?! Where we eat?!!!”

Having set the chaos in motion, Yann smiles happily, patting Lucas on the shoulder and making his way out of the room to join Alexia in the living room where she’s attempting to build a fire. Eliott sighs, making his way over to the bench table and taking a seat next to Manon. She’s hasn’t joined in the fray, instead turning to grin at him smugly. Her expression clearly states she knew exactly what she was doing by instigating Lucas and Idriss’s squabbling. She’s diabolical and he loves her. Eliott brings an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to kiss her on the forehead as they sit back to watch the bedlam unfold.

Things have somehow devolved into Lucas and Idriss arm wrestling. Eliott couldn’t even guess how things got this way. Lucas is of course refusing to play by the rules and Idriss is currently yelling at him for interference.

“You just can’t play fair!”

“I’m literally like half of you,” Lucas argues, two hands trying to slam Idriss’s to the table, “it’s only _fair_ I use two arms!”

“You have to be the biggest pain in my ass all the time, don’t you?”

“Oh Idriss,” Lucas replies and Eliott doesn’t like that tone in his voice at all. It’s his flirty voice. Eliott likes to think Lucas only uses it on him – all evidence to the contrary, “ye of little faith. I wouldn’t make it painful at all. Not unless you asked.”

“Oh, you are going fucking down!” Idriss yells, throwing his body weight behind his arm and gaining leverage on Lucas.

“That can be arranged,” Lucas huffs, fighting with all his strength to keep Idriss from winning.

Eliott has had about enough of this conversation… if it can even be called that. He stands and comes up behind Lucas, wrapping himself against his back with hands to his stomach. It distracts Lucas immediately and it’s only a split second until Idriss is slamming Lucas’s hands down on the counter with a victorious yell. Lucas immediately spins on Eliott, mouth opening to deliver what Eliott is sure will be an absolutely scathing rebuke. He cuts him off with a kiss. One arm wrapping around Lucas’s back, the other in his hair to hold him steady, Eliott throws himself into it. Might as well remind Lucas why he’s only ever wanted to kiss Eliott. Maybe Eliott’s a little smug about that fact. He won’t apologize for it. Lucas melts immediately in his arms, and Eliott walks backwards slightly, putting some distance between Lucas and Idriss. He opens his eyes to glare at Idriss as he goes.

Idriss responds with a roll of his eyes calling out to Manon, “Babe, come save me from these morons, would you?” Eliott hears Manon laugh as she moves from the table towards Idriss.

It’s hard to concentrate on them any longer though. Lucas is warm and soft in his arms, responding avidly to the kiss. He doesn’t seem to be aware of anything around him any longer, allowing Eliott to steer him back to the table where Eliott perches, bringing Lucas between his legs as they continue to make out. Eliott loves the way Lucas loves to be kissed. To think there was a time he’d thought maybe Lucas just didn’t like to be kissed… that Eliott would never have the opportunity. He’d decided he could live with it, that he’d take Lucas in whatever way Lucas was willing to be with him, only then to realize exactly how much Lucas liked to be kissed. And later, that Lucas only liked to be kissed by _him_. Eliott’s hands tighten their grip as he thinks about it.

“Dinner!” Lucille’s voice calls. Eliott pulls back from Lucas reluctantly to see Lucille and Chloe walking into the kitchen with bags of takeout.

“Thank fuck!” Idriss responds, moving to take the bags. “You been any longer these two,” he gestures towards Lucas and Eliott, “would have been defiling another table.”

“Table?” Lucille asks curiously.

“You don’t want to know.” Idriss shudders exaggeratedly, as he and Manon spread the food out on the counter.

Eliott shakes his head deciding to ignore them all. He looks back to Lucas instead. And god, what a sight. Lucas looks so thoroughly well kissed. Lips puffy, eyes a little glazed, his fingers are at Eliott’s neck and everything about the look on his face says he’s waiting for Eliott to go back to kissing him. While Eliott would like nothing more, he also realizes they spend a very athletic afternoon in bed and really need to eat. He leans forward to peck Lucas on the lips.

“Let’s get food, baby.”

Lucas blinks slowly before falling forward to bury his face in Eliott’s chest. Eliott’s arms wrap immediately around him, completing the tight hug. He feels a sudden impulse to shield Lucas entirely. When he gets like this, soft and vulnerable, Eliott knows it’s a side he doesn’t show often. Eliott wants to keep it all to himself. He knows it’s not for anyone else, the way Lucas is with Eliott – the way he is with _only_ Eliott.

He rubs Lucas’s back. “I’ll take care of you later ok, sweetheart?” Lucas mumbles something Eliott can’t make out. “What?”

Lucas lifts his head and he steps closer between Eliott’s legs until they’re pressed up against one another and Eliott can _feel_ how affected he is, even in the confines of his tight jeans. “I said,” Lucas whispers, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of Eliott’s ear, “stop talking to me like that. Baby. Sweetheart. Don’t call me that unless you’re going to take me back to bed and put your _cock_. _inside. me.”_ He emphasizes each word. Eliott can _feel_ them… every single word. And then Lucas is stepping back, turning and sauntering off to join the others at the kitchen island. Eliott is going to kill him. Or kiss him. Maybe both. At the moment he’s not doing anything but staying exactly where he is while he attempts to calm both his heart and his dick. He can’t have either of them reacting quite this enthusiastically when they have at least a couple hours of socializing with their friends ahead of them.

He presses both hands to his face, scrubbing at his eyes as though he could scrub his brain of the images Lucas just implanted there.

“Jesus,” he hears Idriss laugh. “What’d you do to him?”

“Nothing he didn’t deserve, dear Idriss,” Lucas responds. “Nothing he didn’t deserve.”

Eliott is going to kill him. No. Kiss him. The chances that will happen before Lucas manages to kill _Eliott_ however… well, _that_ he is beginning to seriously doubt.

* * * *

* * * *

* * * *

Eliott really should have expected this. Everything Lucas does, he does well. So of course, the fact that he hasn’t skied in years doesn’t mean a thing. Of course, he’d still show up on the ski hill like he belonged there. Eliott had been looking forward to surprising Lucas with his own skills… maybe even showing off a little. Eliott is good. Lucas might rail on about his hatred for snowboarders but Eliott knew the second Lucas got a chance to see his actual skills, he’d be into it. Only… Eliott hadn’t predicted this. He hadn’t expected to be the one salivating at the mouth at the sight of Lucas in all his skiing-God glory. Life really wasn’t fair.

Eliott and Lucas had broken from the rest of the group and gone up the hill alone. Initially they’d screwed around taking some photos before going for a couple runs. And it was fun, it was great. They were both more than adept at tackling difficult terrain and it was exciting and new to board with someone who could not only keep up but was maybe a little better than Eliott. Lucas was just… incredible. He’d apparently grown up skiing. It had been a family pastime. Not one he looked back on too fondly – Eliott would put money on that having something to do with Lucas’s father – but Lucas loved the sport anyways and it showed. He cut down the mountain, carving turns in the fresh snow ahead of Eliott with a sort of speed and grace, Eliott can’t help but be a little staggered by.

Eliott had gotten caught a little behind Lucas on the last run. He’d had to stop when a young (and adorable! Eliott might have squealed a little) group of kids had been tracking across the run with their coach. Lucas had shot ahead and Eliott had let him go, knowing Lucas would wait for him once he reached the lift. It’s as Eliott coasts up to the lift that he finds Lucas talking to another skier. As he gets closer, he can see the skier is a young man… good looking… smiling quite enthusiastically at Lucas. Eliott isn’t jealous, ok? He’s just observant.

“Hey.” He comes to a stop next to Lucas, unstrapping one boot from his board.

“Hey,” Lucas greets happily. “Eliott this is Ben. Fucker cut me off.” He shoves Ben on the shoulder and they both laugh. Eliott couldn’t have been more than five minutes behind Lucas. That Lucas has managed to become buddy-buddy with this Ben guy in that time is… totally not surprising. “He’s here with his sister,” Lucas explains because of course he’s already gotten the guys life story, “but she ditched him to go off with her boyfriend. Told him to hang with us instead.” Oh. So, Lucas has invited someone they don’t even know to join them for some undefined amount of time. Great.

“Sure,” Eliott agrees with a smile because he’s not a total jerk and he’s _not_ jealous. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Ben smiles. “Hope you don’t mind me crashing? Lucas said you’re all here with friends, and it’s sort of lame skiing alone.”

“Of course not,” Eliott lies easily and wonders if, while Lucas was getting Ben’s life story, he happened to mention Eliott is his _boyfriend_.

They all move to get on the lift together, Lucas placing himself between them as he and Ben continue to chat.

“So, you’re just here with your sister and her boyfriend?” Eliott interrupts. Sure, maybe he’s fishing for information and maybe he did that in a truly abrupt and obvious way judging by the look Lucas just gave him but… well, he’s not always subtle. Idriss would definitely back up that assertion.

“Yeah,” Ben confirms, leaning forward on the chair to look over at Eliott, before he turns his attention back to Lucas. “Was supposed to be a couple’s trip. My boyfriend and I broke up a few weeks back though and the trip was already planned so…”

 _Boyfriend_. He’s newly single. And he’s very specifically telling Lucas this. It isn’t information he’s sharing for Eliott’s benefit considering he hasn’t looked away from Lucas. So maybe Eliott is a little jealous. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Lucas. He does. He knows Lucas loves him, and that Lucas doesn’t want to be with anyone else. It’s just that he also knows how great Lucas is… that anyone would jump at the chance to be with him. And well… Eliott would just really like it if those people knew Lucas was _his_. He’s just proud is all. Lucas chose _him_. Chose Eliott when he could have anyone he wanted. And so what if Eliott wants to shout that from the rooftops… or in this case shout it directly in Ben’s face… that’s neither here nor there.

“Ohhhh I see,” Lucas laughs. “So, you’re here to get rebound laid!”

Eliott sighs as Ben laughs, shoving at Lucas’s shoulder. Lucas doesn’t even have to try, and he flirts. It’s just part of who he is. He’s funny and charming and… a gigantic flirt. Eliott loves it when it’s directed towards himself. He’s a little less partial when Lucas directs it at others.

“Nothing some good dick can’t fix,” Lucas continues. He shifts his leg slightly to press against Eliott’s. It’s intentional and it makes Eliott smile, the tension in his shoulders releasing slightly.

“Yeah, I guess,” Ben laughs. He bites his lip as he looks at Lucas who is now looking down at the run below them. Eliott catches Ben’s eye. He’s not sure what Ben reads on his face, but it makes him quickly look away. It has Eliott wondering how he could casually bring up his and Lucas’s relationship in conversation. ‘ _Oh yeah good dick like I plan on giving Lucas tonight’…_ no Lucas would kick his butt for that… ‘ _Relationships can be hard. I’m lucky to have Lucas’…_ maybe a little too romantic for someone Eliott doesn’t know... _‘So anyways Lucas is my boyfriend and we’re in love and committed for life and you don’t have a shot in hell’…_

They’re getting off the lift before Eliott has an opportunity to try out any of the aforementioned, but he bookmarks them for later. He has a feeling they’ll be necessary. His last hope that Ben perhaps won’t be an accomplished skier is quickly squashed. He’s good. Maybe not as good as Lucas but definitely capable. Ugh. They’re not ditching him anytime soon in that case. Eliott tries not to let it rankle him. It’s a kind thing Lucas is doing, including Ben like this. He’s got a big heart despite the way he tries to hide it behind a prickly exterior. And Eliott certainly doesn’t blame Ben for instantly crushing on Lucas. Been there, done that. But Ben is so obviously showing off and well, two can play that game.

Ben moves to the rougher terrain at the side of the run, cutting new tracks, so Eliott follows. Ben cuts through the trees, maneuvering quickly and seamlessly through the tricky space, so Eliott follows. He hits a jump, Eliott hits a jump and makes sure to get extra air. It’s immature and a lot ridiculous but he’s committed now and honestly, a little annoyed. It feels less like showing off for Lucas now, and more like challenging Eliott. And it’s especially stupid because… this isn’t a competition. Lucas is his. Eliott knows this. Nothing Ben could do, will change that. But everything is so new still and Eliott isn’t used to feeling this way – this possessive. God, if Lucas could see inside his head Eliott knows he’d mock the hell out of him for feeling this way when there is literally no reason to do so.

Ben is slightly ahead now, and Eliott sees an opportunity. There’s a lip on the far side of the ridge they’re approaching. It’s clearly been used as a jump with the perfect opportunity for air as the run drops below it. A quick look over his shoulder confirms Lucas is just behind. Perfect. Or it would have been. He hits the jump perfectly, executing an Ollie 360 with little trouble, but he catches a lot of air, more than he expected and he’s going to land far further down the run than he’d planned. There are skiers below, young kids, and they’re directly in the way. There is no way for him to land safely without crashing into them, Eliott realizes with horror. Not unless he bails out. The only possible way he can avoid hitting the kids is to land and cut his board towards the trees. Really there’s no choice. He’s not going to hurt kids just because he let his ego and need to impress Lucas get the better of him.

Eliott throws his body into his edge the moment he lands, veering him towards the trees. He was hoping he’d be able to pull himself back before actually hitting the tree line, or at worst, sink into the untouched powder and make a bit of an idiot out of himself. But he’s carrying too much momentum and his trajectory sends him flying directly into the trees. He dodges the first few before the tip of his board catches on a sapling and his feet are taken out from under him. After that, it’s a flurry of snow and he has no idea what end is up as he rolls. He hits his shoulder against what he’s guessing is a tree before he comes to a stop. All he can hear is his own breathing initially, heart pounding in his chest. It’s not long however before he hears yelling. His name being yelled over and over again. And then Lucas’s face is hovering over him. Surrounded by the white light of the snow surrounding them, he could not look more angelic.

“Eliott!” Lucas’s soft hands, rid of gloves, are cupping his face. “Fuck. Did you hit your head? Don’t move ok?”

Eliott ignores him, sitting up. “I’m ok.”

“Fuck! No.” Lucas seems afraid to touch him roughly enough to stop his motions, hands quickly skimming over his face instead. “Stop moving!”

Eliott moves a gloved hand to his own head. His helmet is firmly in place and his head doesn’t hurt at all. He’s pretty sure the only thing he actually injured was his shoulder and that only feels bruised. “Really. I’m ok,” he assures, smiling at Lucas’s concerned face. “I just hit my shoulder.” He brings a hand to his shoulder, rolling it slightly in its socket with a wince. “I didn’t hit anything else.”

Someone yells from the tree line, “Should we call ski patrol?”

Eliott can see Lucas is winding up to say yes and yells before he’s able to, “No, I’m fine! Thank you though.”

“Eliott,” Lucas warns, unconvinced, “you just went flying headfirst into the trees. We need to get you checked out.”

“Lu,” Eliott chuckles, “if I thought I was really hurt, I’d say something. I’m fine. Really. Will probably just need to ice the shoulder later.”

Lucas breathes out heavily, seeming to finally accept this. He turns his attention to Eliott’s board. “Alright, I’m going to get you out of this. Just let me know if something hurts when you stand up.” There’s something weird about his voice and the way he’s very strategically tipping his head down as he concentrates on the straps of the board.

“Lu?” Eliott tries but Lucas ignores him.

“If you’re up to it, we’ll ski down to the lodge. If not, we can call ski patrol.”

“Lucas,” Eliott interrupts. Free from his board now, he moves forward onto his knees, tipping Lucas’s chin up with a gloved finger under his chin, “slow down. Are you ok?” It’s then he realizes Lucas is shaking. “Lucas… what… come here.” He doesn’t know what to do but pull Lucas into a hug. And it’s awkward in their bulky ski clothes and helmets but Lucas presses into him anyways, arms coming around Eliott tightly.

“You could have died,” he hears Lucas mumble into his coat. “I thought…”

“Hey,” Eliott lifts his head, pulling Lucas back slightly, “I’m ok. Nothing happened.”

“But it could have.”

Oh god. This sweet boy. “Lucas. Sweetheart. I’m with you, ok?” He presses a soft kiss to Lucas’s cold lips. “I’m not going anywhere. You think I’d let a snowboarding accident take me out? When you’d never let me live it down?” A slight smile makes its way to Lucas’s face.

“You die because of this snowboard, I’m going to kill you myself.”

And that’s the boy, Eliott knows and loves. “I’d expect no less,” he chuckles. “Now let’s go back to the lodge. I’m getting cold and this shoulder is aching like crazy.”

“Shit!” Lucas’s face transforms with worry once more and he rushes to help Eliott stand up. “Lean on me if you need, ok? I’ll carry your board.” Eliott honestly does not need to be babied like this. His shoulder hurts but not in any sort of serious way. He’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth however, and he happily leans on Lucas as they make their way out of the trees.

To Eliott’s incredible displeasure, Ben has just finished hiking back up towards them as they exit, and Lucas kneels down to help Eliott get back on his board (though Eliott absolutely could have managed on his own).

“Oh wow! You crashed in the trees? Are you alright?” Ben asks sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Eliott responds, testing out his balance on the board as Lucas goes to put back on his own skis.

“We’re heading down to the lodge,” Lucas glances quickly at Ben. “Eliott hurt his shoulder. We’re done for the day.” They hadn’t discussed quitting for the day but Lucas’s voice brokers no argument and Eliott isn’t about to disagree.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Ben nods. “I’ll come down with you.” _Dammit_. “About time for lunch anyways.”

“Sure,” Lucas agrees, looking only at Eliott. “Go ahead of me alright? And take your damn time. You pull any tricks I am going to murder you, got it?”

Eliott nods, pursing his lips together to hide his pleased smile. He just likes Lucas worrying about him is all. “You’re the boss.”

Lucas points a gloved finger at him, eyes narrowed. “And don’t you forget it.”

When Eliott looks back towards Ben, the other man’s eyes are flicking between Eliott and Lucas, brow furrowed and unhappy tilt to his mouth. _Yes_ , Eliott wants to scream, _you’re not misreading anything. He’s mine and I’m his._ But then, Eliott thinks as he looks back at Lucas who is now raising one eyebrow at him expectantly, it doesn’t need to be said. He smiles at Lucas and turns to lead the way down the hill.

* * * *

It doesn’t take long until Ben pulls out his phone, announcing his sister texted and he should go meet up with her. In fact, all it takes is Lucas plunking himself directly down into Eliott’s lap after retrieving their lunches. The moment they’d gotten into the lodge Lucas had located Idriss and Manon near the fireplace and he’d pushed Eliott to sit in a comfortable, plush seat, fussing over him in a way that was entirely unnecessary but all too welcome as far as Eliott was concerned. Lucas had rushed off to get their lunches and had come back with not only the food but an ice pack for Eliott’s shoulder, which he’d immediately insisted on administering himself. He’d flapped about, helping Eliott out of his coat and carefully wrapping the ice pack before pressing it to Eliott’s shoulder. He seemed to have forgotten about Ben’s existence entirely and Eliott wasn’t keen on reminding him. Lucas had quickly decided Eliott wasn’t holding the ice pack correctly – apparently that’s a thing that can be done wrong – and plopped himself right into Eliott’s lap, taking over the job himself.

Eliott had tried not to look so smug about it. Honestly, he felt a little bad for Ben. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to know Lucas existed, but you’d never get to be with him. It’s thankfully not a reality Eliott knows. But well… Eliott doesn’t always have to be the better person and the look on Ben’s face when Lucas made himself home on Eliott’s lap _had_ been quite satisfying. And Eliott’s allowed to be petty inside the privacy of his own head… though maybe the way he’d immediately leaned forward to intimately kiss Lucas’s neck had been a little more outwardly petty but it had resulted in Lucas curling even further into him so Eliott doesn’t regret a thing.

Ben had immediately excused himself and Lucas, completely oblivious to the way he’d just stomped on all the guys hopes, had only smiled at him briefly, expressing how nice it was to meet him before turning his attention back to Eliott.

“What are you smiling like that for?” Lucas asks suspiciously from his perch atop Eliott.

Then again, maybe Eliott hasn’t done the best job hiding exactly how smug he’s feeling. “Nothing.” He widens his eyes just slightly, adopting the most innocent expression he can manage. Lucas doesn’t look at all convinced, but he’s distracted by Manon and Idriss coming back from retrieving their own lunches while Eliott and Lucas had saved the seats.

“How’s the shoulder?” Idriss asks, setting his food down on the table and pulling Manon’s chair closer to his own so they can sit together.

“It’s alright,” he grimaces, shifting his shoulder a little under Lucas’s hands. “It wasn’t that bad. It’ll just be bruised.”

“Wasn’t that bad?!” Lucas objects looking none-too-pleased with Eliott. “You went flying into the fucking trees. You could have broken your neck.”

“I didn’t though.” Eliott moves to pet Lucas’s thigh, leaving his hand there in comfort. “I’m fine.”

“Right,” Idriss scoffs. “You and your sister feel the need to give us all heart attacks but it’s _ohhhh no big deal_.”

Eliott looks to Manon in question. “What’d you do to get included in this scolding?”

She rolls her eyes and with a sigh explains, “Nothing. I fell over and Idriss freaked out.”

“You crashed!” Idriss insists outraged. “Skiing is too dangerous right now!”

“Babe, I wasn’t even moving. I just caught an edge and fell over. It wasn’t dangerous, just embarrassing,” Manon argues, clearly exasperated.

“Nope,” Idriss disagrees, reaching for his burger, “we’re done for the day.”

“Us too,” Lucas agrees immediately. “These two clearly can’t be trusted with their own safety.”

Idriss and Lucas nod at one another in clear, determined agreement. They’re ridiculous. Eliott looks to Manon amused, and they exchange a quick ‘can you believe we both fell in love with these idiots?’ look.

“So, what’s the plan then?” Eliott asks. “What do you want to do this afternoon instead?”

Lucas shrugs, reaching for Eliott’s sandwich and handing it to him in clear suggestion he is to eat. “I don’t know. We can meet up with Lucille and Chloe. They went shopping.”

“I’m okay with that,” Manon admits. “Unless you’re going to insist I change into bubble wrap?” She asks Idriss, eyebrow raised.

“You think I wouldn’t have done that already if I thought you’d listen?” Idriss banters back, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I’d keep you behind glass if I could.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Manon laughs lightly.

Eliott turns to grin at Lucas in shared humour at how ridiculous the couple in front of them are being. Only Lucas is assessing him with a considering look. It makes Eliott snort.

“I’m not wrapping myself in bubble wrap either.”

“Yeah we’ll see about that,” Lucas scoffs, biting into his own sandwich. He says it in an entirely different way from Idriss. He says it like he knows if he demanded it, Eliott would listen. Eliott can’t even disagree. Everyone present knows exactly how much of a sucker he is for Lucas.

Manon laughs softly before asking, “Okay, so, shopping – we should grab some food for dinner while we’re out – then a quiet night at the cabin?”

“Yeah, we need to try out the hot tub too! We can do that tonight.” Eliott says it without thinking. It’s not until Lucas speaks that he realizes his mistake.

“Since when does our cabin have a hot tub?”

“Oh uh…” Eliott throws a panicked looked towards Idriss and Manon but neither look willing to bail him out, sitting back with smug smiles instead. “Well it’s on the back deck. I must have forgotten to mention it.”

He braces himself waiting for the lecture he’s sure will follow. Instead Lucas simply looks at him, his face considering but not angry. “Hmmm,” he hums a little, moving the ice pack away from Eliott’s shoulder and resting his hand their instead. “That’ll probably be good for your shoulder and muscles. I bet you’ll be a lot more sore than you expect. Good. That’s good.” He nods to himself before pressing his hand a little more solidly to Eliott’s shoulder, the heat of it a comforting contrast against the cold skin.

“Yeah?” Eliott asks smiling. He doesn’t want to push his luck, but he has to say he’s a little surprised by Lucas’s easy acceptance of the additional luxury.

“Mmhmm.” Lucas smiles, leaning forward to kiss the side of Eliott’s head before moving his lips to Eliott’s ear. “Play your cards right and I might even give you a massage.”

And while Eliott would absolutely not recommend crashing into trees and risking life and limb for the attention and pampering of one’s partner, he has to say… this is working out quite nicely.

* * * * 

* * * *

It’s quite late in the evening by the time they get around to using the hot tub and Eliott must admit Lucas was right. He is sore. More so than he expected. His shoulder is swollen and showcasing what is going to eventually be quite an ugly bruise. His other muscles however are not fairing a whole lot better and he feels as though he spent the day training weights after not having done so in months. It’s unpleasant to say the least and he’s doing his level best not to let his extreme discomfort show. While he’s been enjoying Lucas fussing over him all day, there’s no doubt that the underlying worry coming from Lucas is very, very real. To say he would overreact if Eliott mentioned exactly how sore his muscles happen to be, is likely a vast understatement. And Eliott just wants to relax with his friends and his boyfriend. Being dragged to the E.R. only to be told to go home and rest, is not at all something he’d like in the cards for tonight.

By the time they reach the hot tub, Alexia, Yann, Lucille and Chloe have already made themselves comfortable. It’s a good thing the hot tub is as large as it is. Even so, once Idriss and Manon arrive there will likely not be enough room for everyone. In other words, it’ll be a perfect excuse to insist Lucas sits on his lap, Eliott thinks quite happily. Lucas is descending the stairs of the hot tub and glances at Eliott, eyes squinting in clear suspicion, as though he’s heard the overt-public-displays-of-affection thoughts parading through Eliott’s head.

“What?” Eliott asks with a secretive smile, pleased to be faced with his half-naked, now wet, boyfriend. Lucas settles himself in the hot tub between Alexia and Yann while Eliott chooses to sit on the side across from Lucas for now, dipping his legs in to let them acclimate to the temperature first.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking but you can forget it, sassling,” Lucas warns in what is so clearly an opening to flirt, Eliott doesn’t know why he bothers with the pretenses.

“Yes. You do.” He smiles, raising one eyebrow just slightly in challenge. Scratch that, maybe he knows why Lucas bothers with the pretenses. It _is_ more fun this way. Even better, his comment brings an impressive flush to Lucas’s face and neck. Though maybe that’s just the heat of the hot tub getting to him. But judging by the flustered way Lucas’s eyes drop briefly to the water before coming back to him, Eliott is going to say it’s all him. He’d put money on Lucas having interpreted that statement in a far dirtier way than Eliott meant it. And that is just… delightful, if Eliott is honest. He’s not about to clarify.

“Stop it,” comes Yann’s voice and Eliott’s eyes naturally go to him. Yann has one finger pointing back and forth between them. “I’m warning you two. I want a nice, relaxing soak in this hot tub without having to listen to your idea of foreplay.”

Eliott grins, pleased by the interpretation. Lucas, however, rounds on Yann, arms coming to cross against his chest. “Excuse me, Yann,” he huffs, all exaggerated indignation and so adorable Eliott has to sink down into the water to distract himself from squealing. “We were just carrying on an innocent conversation. If you think that’s foreplay, we need to sit down and have a little chat about all the women you _clearly_ haven’t been pleasing.”

“Oh because you’re going to teach him?” Chloe breaks in, laughing from where she’s sat on the edge of the hot tub, Lucille resting back between her legs. “With all you know about foreplay and women?”

“Know more about it than I want thanks to you two.” Lucas doesn’t say it very loudly, but it carries over the sound of the hot tub jets anyways. Eliott covers his own laugh with a cough.

Chloe makes a noise of offense. “What’s that supposed to mean? I _never_ talk about sex. Unlike you. Every freaking detail I never needed!”

“I don’t –”

“Yeah, god knows I appreciate men and all, but I know more about dick than I ever needed to thanks to your way-too-detailed stories,” Alexia chips in with a snort.

Yann piles on. “Exactly. Not like I asked to hear about that guy that came the second he got a hand on _your_ dick, did I?”

Eliott shifts uncomfortably. He hates hearing about the guys Lucas has been with. He knows Lucas has been with lots of men. And he’s ok with it. _He is_. He just… doesn’t like being reminded of the fact. If he had his choice, he _and_ Lucas would forget all the Leons of the world ever existed.

Lucas laughs. “That was funny! I was just sharing an amusing anecdote with my best friend.”

“You are so stupid,” Chloe scoffs while Lucille laughs.

“Eh. At least you don’t do it with Eliott,” Yann allows with a relieved sigh, tipping his head back on the edge of the hot tub.

“Yeah, that was a surprise,” Alexia agrees.

“True,” Chloe agrees. “No offense,” she nods at Eliott, “but I don’t want to know about anything between you two.”

“You don’t talk about me?” Eliott hadn’t meant to speak but his mouth does so before his brain can stop him. He doesn’t know how to feel about this knowledge. It’s not that he wants Lucas to talk about their sex life with their friends but… what does it mean that he’s done so with everyone _but_ Eliott?

“Of course not,” Lucas scoffs looking offended, as though Eliott should know better.

“But…” Eliott flicks his eyes to the interested gazes of his friends currently resting on him. They shouldn’t be having this conversation here and yet he can’t be all that surprised this is what it has come to either. “Why not?”

“Because…” Lucas’s own gaze flickers around the hot tub, noting the interest of their friends, before coming back to Eliott. And Eliott can tell he’s considering whether he wants to be honest or not. Lucas sighs, shoulders dropping as he looks at Eliott, expression softened of all former defences. “It’s you. It’s different.”

Oh god. Eliott wants to kiss him. Everything inside him is saying to move across the hot tub, pull Lucas into a kiss and never let him go. The slight smile spreading across Lucas’s face says he knows exactly what Eliott is thinking. The only thing that stops Eliott in fact, is Manon and Idriss’s arrival to the hot tub.

“What are we talking about?” Idriss asks into the silence that’s fallen.

“These two just made me realize I’d rather listen to their verbal foreplay than deal with them being romantic,” Yann answers and is rewarded by Lucas giving him the finger.

“I don’t know,” Alexia says. “It’s sweet. Since when do we ever get to see this idiot,” she bats Lucas at the back of the head much to his disgruntlement, “being so sweet. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Eh, I guess that’s true,” Yann allows. “Our little Lulu. Falls in love for the first time and becomes a total sap.”

“Alright, alright,” Lucas huffs with an eye roll, looking adorable and flustered and refusing to look over at Eliott. “You two can shut up now. I’m not romantic.” He’s _totally_ romantic, but Eliott knows future sex with Lucas would be seriously put in peril should he dare say as much. 

Eliott smiles charmed, shifting over to make room for Idriss who sinks in beside him, Manon choosing to sit on the edge of the hot tub and soak her legs instead. It’s squishy but everyone unfortunately fits, Eliott thinks regretfully, looking over to where Lucas is cozied up between Alexia and Yann.

“Babe,” Lucille pats Chloe on the thigh, motioning her head towards an ice bucket and glasses Eliott hadn’t noticed earlier.

“Ohhhh, right!” Chloe squeals happily, swinging her legs out of the tub and moving to retrieve what turns out to be a bottle of champagne. She turns to show it off to everyone. “Lucille and I picked it up earlier today.”

“Nice!” Yann enthuses along with everyone else’s happy sounds.

Lucille rises out of the tub to help, and glasses of champagne are quickly distributed.

“Should we toast?” Lucille asks.

“To celebrating with friends,” Eliott offers, raising his glass.

“To celebrating with family,” Lucas adds with significance looking right at Eliott, “And idiots,” he finishes, tipping his head towards Idriss. He’s really just begging to be kissed and Eliott honestly isn’t sure he can last until they’re out of the hot tub.

“Cheers!” Everyone calls happily, clinking glasses together.

Eliott settles happily back against the edge of the tub with a happy sigh, letting the hot water sooth his sore muscles as he sips from his glass. Conversation settles into a soothing din around him and he can’t find it in himself to focus on any particular voices, eyes going back to Lucas instead. Lucas isn’t returning the look, however. Instead he seems to be looking towards Idriss and Manon. He looks confused. Eliott turns to look at what’s caught his attention. Manon has handed her glass of champagne to Idriss and Idriss is adding it to his now, nearly empty glass. He thought Manon liked champagne but then she’s never been that big on alcohol in general. Eliott smiles. They’re quite sweet together.

Eliott has to admit, it was a little strange knowing his best friend and sister were not only together, but in love. He feels so entirely protective of them both, it’s hard to know how to parcel those protective instincts now that they have chosen one another. But they’re both the best people Eliott knows, aside from Lucas, and he can’t think of two people more deserving of happiness. That they found it together is just a bonus. And while Eliott knows Manon too has had some tense conversations with their mother about her relationship, she has always had a much better handle on her emotions in such situations, and had come to an understanding with their mother far before Eliott himself had been able to do so. In all honestly, he thinks their mother had just thrown her hands up at this point, knowing that nothing she could ever say will change Manon and Eliott’s choices.

“What are you doing?” Idriss suddenly speaks, loud enough to catch Eliott’s attention. His eyes go back to them. Manon is moving to submerge herself in the water.

“What does it look like?” Manon has half sunk down into the water but Idriss has turned, hand on her waist stopping her.

“Manon.”

They stare at one another for an extended moment and their odd interaction has now caught the attention of the others.

Manon sighs in exasperation. “Fine. I’m going to get a sweater.” She rises back out of the hot tub and makes her way back into the cabin.

That was… really strange. Idriss settles back in the hot tub looking disgruntled but satisfied and the others go back to their conversations. What on earth was that about? Why would Idriss stop Manon from coming in the hot tub? Eliott looks back to Lucas, who this time, is looking right back. He’s got his eyebrows raised in the clear communication of a message.

 _What?_ Eliott silently asks with a quirk of his own eyebrow.

Lucas’s eyes flick back to Idriss, to the champagne, to the door where Manon has disappeared within the cabin, and then back to Eliott. _Are you seriously not getting this?_

Eliott scrunches his own eyebrows. _The hot tub thing was weird. The champagne thing too, I guess_. He agrees with a slightly shrug. _What am I not getting?_

He can see Lucas sigh. His eyes go to Eliott’s shoulder, widening slightly. _Think Eliott_ , Lucas’s expression clearly reads.

What does his shoulder have to do with any… _Oh._ Right. Idriss had been just as protective of Manon today, though it sounded like Manon had barely even fallen. That too had been a bit odd. _Ok, but… what does it all mean?_

Lucas’s gaze is piercing, his expression serious. _Eliott. The bubble wrap. The champagne. The hot tub._

Eliott stares back, mind racing and eye contact unwavering. Idriss is being overprotective. Manon doesn’t want to drink. Idriss doesn’t want her going in the hot tub… _WAIT._ His jaw drops and he feels his eyes widen as he stares at Lucas.

A crooked smile makes its way onto Lucas’s face. His own eyes widen a little, in something like commiseration. _Yeah_. _Now you’ve got it_. 

Eliott turns, watching as Manon, now back and swaddled in a large sweater put on over her bikini, settles next to Idriss. They smile at one another as Idriss rests a hand on her thigh and Manon rubs a hand against her stomach.

“YOU’RE PREGNANT?!” Eliott yells, standing and swinging around to face Idriss and Manon in accusation.

“Eliott! Christ!” Lucas lets out in exasperation behind him. But for once Eliott can’t concentrate on him. Manon is pregnant? She’s pregnant?! How can she be… how did this…

It’s a tie between Manon and Idriss as to who looks more shocked. All other conversation has stopped. The only sound is the ongoing bubble of the jets.

“I –” Idriss begins, utterly stripped of defenses. “I mean – we – I don’t know what you –”

“Yes,” Manon interrupts his ramble with a gentle hand to his shoulder. Her eyes meet Eliott’s and she smiles gently. “I am.”

Eliott can’t speak. He can feel his jaw moving, mouth opening and closing, but no words are coming out. Hands around his waist are suddenly pulling him backwards and he sinks gratefully back into Lucas’s hold, settling down in the water with his back against Lucas’s chest.

“Congratulations,” Lucas speaks. “Damn. Idri, man,” he laughs, “didn’t know you had it in you. That’s incredible.”

“Thanks.” Idriss breaks into a grin, turning to look at Manon. Eliott can practically hear the rest of the hot tub exhale as the initial tension of the moment passes. 

“It’s really early,” Manon adds, looking at Eliott. “We were afraid to say anything yet. It wasn’t planned, but,” her eyes drop to Idriss’s and her smile grows, her eyes shining with emotion, “we’re really excited.”

The rest of the hot tub chimes in with congratulations, Lucille and Chloe moving forward to give Manon hugs, and Eliott jumps slightly at the feel of Lucas’s hands rubbing against his stomach. “You’re going to be an uncle,” Lucas whispers into his ear. He shifts a little in Lucas’s arms to turn and look at him.

“I’m…” He isn’t even sure what he wants to say but Lucas smiles gently in response.

“Well?” Lucas suggests with a slight nod directed towards Manon and Idriss. “Go give your sister a hug.”

His sister. Manon. She’s having a baby. Eliott is going to be an uncle. There’s going to be a tiny, little baby that’s half Manon and half Idriss. Oh god. He swallows heavily and is a little surprised to realize his eyes have filled with tears. He looks back to Manon to see that she’s already looking at him, eyes shining and a wobbly smile on her face. Lucas releases his hold the moment Eliott moves, pushing across the hot tub and pulling Manon down into a crushing hug.

“I’m so – I’m so…” Eliott pulls back slightly to hold Manon’s face between his hands. They grin at one another, tears having found their way to both of their cheeks. “I can’t believe it. I’m so happy for you.”

Manon laughs, her voice watery, “Me too.”

“Okay, I don’t mean to interrupt but…” Idriss is suddenly pulling Manon away. “Out of the hot tub. Out of the hot tub.”

Eliott looks to Idriss in confusion when he suddenly realizes. Oh god. He pulled Manon down and into the hot tub without thinking. “Oh my god!” He cries horrified. “Is it bad for the baby?!” He moves to help Idriss in encouraging Manon out of the water, where she seems to be taking her sweet time, looking between them both in exasperation.

“It’s fine,” she sighs, batting their hands off her but stepping up and out of the hot tub, nevertheless. She begins wringing out her now half-soaked sweater. “It was only a few seconds. I told you I wouldn’t stay in for longer than a couple minutes, Idri, and I checked the temperature. It’s not that hot.”

“No,” Idriss disagrees. “I read all about it. There are too many risks.”

“I’m so sorry,” Eliott bemoans. He would never put Manon and the baby at risk. _Never_.

“Oh my god,” Manon laughs lightly, a hand pressing to her forehead. She raises her head and looks towards Lucas. “Please tell me you’ll help me get a handle on them?”

“Sorry, Princess,” Lucas laughs. “I don’t think even I can manage that. It’s bubble wrap only for the next nine months. Or… I guess not nine months…”

“Thirty-two weeks, we think,” Manon supplies.

Thirty-two weeks. Eight months. In just eight months there’s going to be a real, live little baby. The love Eliott already feels for the little person growing inside Manon is suddenly overwhelming.

“Oh my god,” he manages to croak.

He hears Lucas laughing behind him and then arms are coming around his waist, Lucas pressing against his back. “Alright. You are officially an emotional wreck. Let’s get you out of here before you drown everyone with your tears.”

“Lucas!” Eliott reprimands, turning in the circle of his arms to pout. “I’m going to be an uncle. This is a very special moment.”

“Yes,” Lucas agrees. “And you are a very special sap. C’mon. Bed awaits.” He wiggles an eyebrow with the suggestion. Eliott has to admit, the appeal of Lucas and bed is enough to have him nodding with perhaps too much enthusiasm. He hears their friends laugh around him, a few remarks thrown in about how ‘easy’ he is, he ignores them all in favour of looking back to Manon one more time as Lucas pulls him towards the steps leading out of the hot tub.

“I’m really happy for you.”

“I know,” she smiles gently. “Thank you.”

He looks to Idriss then and narrows his eyes. “Not sure how I feel about you yet.”

“What’d I do?” Idriss complains.

“You impregnated my sister! That’s what you did!” Eliott doesn’t even want to _think_ about how this happened.

“Please,” Idriss scoffs. “As if you wouldn’t knock your boy up the first chance you got if it was possible.” Well… he’s got him there.

Lucas doesn’t give Eliott the chance to respond, perhaps realizing anything that came out of Eliott’s mouth would be fodder for _a lot_ of teasing from their friends. “And that signals we have definitely had enough fucking friend time,” Lucas announces loudly and pulls Eliott from the hot tub, rushing them towards the door back into the cabin as their friends laugh uproariously.

Eliott can’t help but smile as he’s dragged back through the house, hand tightly linked with Lucas’s. It’s not just Eliott who’s going to be an uncle. Lucas is too.

* * * *

“But I’m fine!” Eliott argues with as much surety as possible.

But Lucas doesn’t budge, slipping under the covers next to Eliott with an eyebrow raised, before turning on his side to face him. “No. And if you keep bitching it’s not just tonight we’re not going to be having sex.”

Eliott grumbles unhappily, rolling onto his stomach and resting his face on crossed arms as he looks at Lucas. So he’s a little sore. And yes, his shoulder looks a lot grisly. Nothing about that means he can’t suck Lucas’s dick. His boyfriend is ridiculous.

Lucas’s eyes track over his shoulder to his back, gliding down until they meet the edge of the sheet, resting at the top of Eliott’s butt. He’s nude underneath it and knows the sheet is just barely covering him. Eliott stretches a little, arching his lower back and letting out a low, satisfied groan. When he meets Lucas’s gaze again there’s a knowing smirk on his boyfriend’s face. Lucas really can’t complain, Eliott learned that move from him.

“You think I can’t resist you and your wily ways, Princeling?”

Eliott shrugs, wincing a little in discomfort before he can stop himself. “I think your track record of resisting me speaks for itself.”

Lucas expels a breath of humour and then he’s moving, rising up and straddling Eliott’s lower body, settling down right on top of Eliott’s butt. In doing so he drives Eliott’s lower half down and into the mattress. If Lucas thinks this is in any way giving Eliott the impression they _won’t_ end up having sex… well, he’s sorely mistaken. Lucas presses his hands into Eliott’s lower back, digging his thumbs into the muscle and pushing up and beside his spine. Eliott groans, this time involuntarily. God, that feels good.

“Is this ok?” Lucas asks, hands firm and sure where they knead into Eliott’s lower back.

“Unnfff,” Eliott grunts as Lucas hits an especially tense muscle. “Yeah, it’s –” He expels a heavy breath, sinking even more deeply into the mattress. “It’s good.” His words are already a little slurred, instantly drunk on the feel of Lucas on top of him, pressing him down into the mattress, hands warm and strong against his skin.

Lucas shifts his weight forward and Eliott hears the drawer of the side table open. He turns his head to see Lucas pulling what looks to me massage oil from it.

“Uh…” Listen, Eliott is game for adding oil to what they have going on here. As far as he is concerned, mixing Lucas, a massage, and oil can only be a good thing. It’s just… “That wasn’t already in there, was it?”

His query is met with a sharp smack directly across his butt cheek. He nearly chokes on the air he inhales. _Oh god_. They’re going to have sex. There is no way this isn’t eventually leading to sex. Eliott will actually _cry_ if this doesn’t lead to sex. Or at the very least his dick will. As it is, he can feel himself plumping up beneath his body and he shifts a little, repositioning as subtly as he can, until the rapidly hardening length rests against his belly.

“Of course not,” Lucas replies. There’s humour in his voice. There’s no doubt he knows exactly how he’s affected Eliott. “Bought it this afternoon.”

Eliott hums happily. Lucas drops the bottle to the mattress, his weight rising up and off Eliott for a moment. He pulls the sheet down, leaving it collected at Eliott’s feet and exposing him to the chill of the bedroom air. And then he’s sitting down again on top of Eliott’s bum, only… this time, he’s naked. Eliott does his best to stifle the noise he makes at the contact, hoping Lucas is distracted enough by the massage oil he’s currently warming up between his hands. Lucas hadn’t been naked. He’d been in briefs. Specifically, because, as he’d told Eliott, they _weren’t_ going to have sex. They’re _totally_ going to have sex.

When Lucas’s hands return to him, they’re warm and slick with oil, and he wastes no time pressing down once more, massaging the tight muscles of Eliott’s lower back. Snowboarding always makes him especially sore there. And _god_ , Lucas’s hands feel good.

“Hey, Princeling?”

Eliott hums, eyes fallen shut, already absolute putty beneath Lucas’s hands.

“Um…” There’s an insecure wobble to Lucas’s voice that has Eliott’s eyes opening, head rising to turn slightly though it’s impossible to see Lucas very well from where he sits straddling Eliott. Lucas’s hands drive back down into him and Eliott’s head falls back to his arms, eyes closing with a grunt of satisfaction as Lucas’s hands work him over. “Do you think,” Lucas begins again, and Eliott can recognize the forced casualness of his tone, “in the future you might want like – to do it too? Like Manon and Idriss?”

Eliott’s eyebrows pull together as he tries to decipher the actual question beneath the near incoherent way Lucas has just worded himself. Is this a pregnancy joke? Because of what Idriss said? Eliott smiles a little to himself at the thought. “Wouldn’t mind knocking you up, if science advanced that far.” He’s half expecting Lucas to swat him over the butt again... sort of hoping for it, if he’s honest.

Instead Lucas laughs, but… nervously. “Think I don’t know that, sasspup? Pretty sure every time you look at my ass you tap into some primal instinct to mate me.” It’s all bluster and humour, and absolutely a cover for the fact that Lucas is feeling vulnerable. Eliott has gotten much better at recognizing the signs. It’s with startling clarity he realizes exactly what this is about.

“Are you asking me if I want to have kids?”

Lucas’s hands pause for a split second before they resume their movements, gentler now, gliding up and then back down the length of Eliott’s spine. “Would it be weird if I was?”

Ok, be calm, Eliott. You can do this. You will absolutely scare Lucas off if you start squealing with happiness. It’s just that Eliott didn’t expect this discussion so soon. Eventually, yes. Perhaps when Lucas felt more secure and comfortable in their relationship; once they had launched the apprenticeship program and worked towards the larger changes they both wanted to see in the institution. Then, sure. Once Eliott had proven himself worthy of the trust Lucas has so wholly and completely put in him. He did _not_ expect this discussion to come up now. Not even with Manon and Idriss introducing the topic in such a dramatic manner. Eliott’s been ready for it. Don’t get him wrong. He’s been ready to talk about having kids with Lucas since he watched Lucas wrap Emily in his arms during that movie night at the shelter, when prying his eyes off Lucas for even a few moments at a time had seemed next to impossible. All his brain has screamed at him since is how much he wanted to raise a family with Lucas. He just hadn’t factored in the fact that maybe Lucas was thinking about it too. And the effect that knowledge would have on Eliott’s heart.

Lucas’s hands have stopped their motions on his back, resting tentatively against his skin, and it’s only then Eliott realizes he’s been silent too long as he contemplated how to answer. “Yes!” He blurts. “I mean – no. No, it’s not weird. Yes, I want to have kids with you.” He holds his breath until Lucas’s hands resume their motions.

“So, like… what do you imagine?” Lucas asks, voice tentative. His hands continue to smooth over Eliott’s back, less of a massage now than a self-soothing glide up and down.

“What do you mean?” Eliott asks gently, all too aware of how easily he could potentially screw up this conversation. _Do not tell him you’d have as many babies as Lucas wanted – one hundred if he asked._ “Like how many?”

“I guess,” Lucas answers, but it’s not entirely convincing. “But like… how would you want to do it?”

The fact that Lucas is asking this without a hint of innuendo in his voice, without taking advantage of the opportunity to turn this into a dirty joke says more about how important this conversation is to him than anything else. It’s clearer than ever that this is something Lucas has been thinking very specifically about.

Eliott breathes in deeply, allowing the touch of Lucas’s hands against his skin to calm him as he considers how to answer. “I don’t care how we go about it,” Eliott admits. “I just know I want to have a family with you. Whatever that means. Whatever shape that takes. I want to build that with you. Only you.”

Lucas’s body weight shifts and he’s suddenly pressing a kiss to the back of Eliott’s neck before he rises up once more to his seated position, lower now, on Eliott’s upper thighs. “Do you think you’d maybe want to adopt?”

“Do _you_ want to adopt?” Eliott asks, deciding the best tactic here is to start pulling answers from Lucas that he’s clearly eager to give, even if he’s being a little awkward with it.

Lucas’s hands move down Eliott’s back to his butt, fingers sweeping along the plump cheeks before gliding down and between them, where the touch of his oiled fingers causes immediate goosebumps to rise on Eliott’s skin. Eliott is suddenly acutely reminded of his original goal of ending this evening with sex. The renewed desire is a jarring contrast to the seriousness of their conversation. Eliott is fairly certain Lucas isn’t even doing it to intentionally tease. It’s as though he’s using his touch against Eliott’s body like a meditative exercise – a way to handle a conversation with high stakes.

“Well, um,” Lucas begins, an uncharacteristic wobble to his voice, “sometimes I think I’d like to see a little you running around, you know? Making sure all the little spiders are released back safely into the wild and insisting on helping clean up every mess made.” It’s not a mini-version of himself Eliott suddenly pictures. It’s a mini-version of Lucas… spiky hair and an attitude to match. It robs him of breath for a moment. Lucas continues, “And I can picture it. Perfectly. But then, I think of kids like Em and…”

“You want to adopt kids who need us,” Eliott finishes for him. It’s not at all surprising. It’s the future Eliott pictures every time he sees Lucas with the kids at the shelter. It’s what he imagined that first night he’d seen Lucas cuddle and care for Emily so lovingly. It had imprinted on Eliott’s brain – what a wonderful father Lucas was going to be. “I do too.”

“Yeah?” The smile in Lucas’s voice is beautifully obvious. Eliott aches to turn and see it for himself but it’s clear now Lucas has chosen their positions with intent, likely finding it easier to talk about this subject without facing one another.

“Yes.” Eliott presses his smile into his arms. “I want to adopt kids with you. Kids we can help. We could give them a great life.”

“We could,” Lucas agrees, fingers pressing more deeply into the skin of Eliott’s butt in a way that now seems quite intentional. “How many?”

“What?” Eliott asks, eyes shutting and thoroughly distracted by Lucas’s fingers, moving down now, slick and hot, until they are rubbing right against his rim. He clenches involuntarily, molten heat pooling low in his belly. 

Lucas repositions between Eliott’s thighs, knee moving to knock his legs slightly further apart, a finger circling and rubbing against Eliott’s opening until he’s pressing in, sliding smoothly to the last knuckle. Eliott gasps arching his back and he drops his forehead to the mattress under him, pushing his butt back into Lucas’s hands. Lucas reaches for the oil, dribbling it directly down onto the finger sliding in and out of Eliott’s body. A full-body shudder runs through Eliott at the feel of the cooler liquid dripping directly onto the sensitive nerve endings.

“How many?” Lucas repeats. He can’t seriously be expecting Eliott to continue this conversation right now. Not when he’s added a second finger and he’s pressing them up and into Eliott in a delicious stretch that has the hair on the back of Eliott’s neck standing on end. “Eliott,” Lucas commands, voice stern and fingers stopping all motion, “how many?”

“God,” Eliott groans, trying to concentrate on the question instead of how badly he wants to shove his body back onto Lucas’s fingers, forcing them deeper. “I don’t – I don’t care.” His voice comes out strangled, and he’s shaking with the effort it’s taking to remain still.

“You don’t care?” Lucas asks and he doesn’t sound pleased.

Oh god. If Eliott screws this up now and it doesn’t end with Lucas putting his cock inside him, he will never forgive himself. “I mean, it could be two or five or… or twenty,” he slurs, doing his best to keep his breathing under control and get the words out. “I don’t care as long as it’s what we want. What’s – _please_ – what’s best.” Lucas’s fingers begin moving again and Eliott let’s out a moan of relief, subtly shifting to press back into them.

“Yeah,” Lucas replies, sounding warm and happy. “I don’t care either. As long as it’s with you.”

Eliott gasps, suddenly frantic with need. He reaches back to grab Lucas’s forearm and pull his hand away from Eliott’s body.

“Eliott, what–” Lucas begins, confused.

“In me,” Eliott manages, pushing his chest up off the bed and moving to a kneel, awkwardly reaching back for Lucas’s hip and ignoring the twinge in his shoulder as he does so, pulling until Eliott can feel Lucas’s erection, hot and hard, right against his slick opening.

Lucas’s hands come to Eliott’s body, holding him still with a tight grip. Eliott can hear Lucas’s own breath coming out in harsh pants. “No, Eliott, I haven’t prepped you enough.” The way his hands are opening and closing against Eliott’s hips is telling. He’s as lost to the need to be inside Eliott as Eliott is to have him there, and it’s taking all of his self-control not to give in.

“I am,” Eliott insists. “I want it like this. Want to feel you.”

“Fuck. _Fuck_.” Lucas groans. He pulls Eliott backwards in a hard tug, grinding his erection up in into Eliott’s crack in a hot press of skin against skin. “God. Ok.” He reaches for the bedside table drawer once more. This time procuring a condom. He _totally_ planned this. Eliott _knew_ they were going to have sex. He’ll be smug about it later. For now, all he can do is concentrate on the feel of the blunt head of Lucas’s cock stretching him. “You – _fuck_ ,” Lucas grunts, one hand holding tight to Eliott’s hip, “you tell me if it’s too much.”

Eliott nods, eyes squeezing shut as his hands grapple for purchase on the mattress beneath him. “Yeah. But don’t – don’t stop.” It’s so close to being too much, a razor thin tight rope Eliott is walking by asking Lucas to take him like this, tighter than they’d ever normally allow. Eliott holds his breath as Lucas presses forward slowly, until the head of his cock breaches the barrier of Eliott’s body. Eliott groans and Lucas’s hands tighten on his hips as he begins sinking his cock deeper in short strokes, in, then out, further each time. Eliott’s nerve endings feel scraped raw, each drag of Lucas’s cock causing his insides to seize. It seems to take forever for Lucas to bottom out. But then he has. Hips pressed to the hot skin of Eliott’s bum, he nudges his cock impossibly further, until all of him is buried inside Eliott.

“Oh god,” Lucas moans and the sound tingles across Eliott’s skin in a ripple of sensation. “You feel so fucking good. I can’t – oh, holy fuck.” Lucas is a vocal lover but he’s not normally this loud. Loud enough the others can probably hear them. Oh _Jesus_ , why is that thought so hot?! But he’s not moving. He stays still, stretching Eliott in the most delicious of ways but it’s not enough. Eliott needs him to move. He needs Lucas to _fuck_ him.

“Lucas,” Eliott gasps, pressing his forehead down into the mattress and reaching back with one hand for Lucas’s hip. He squeezes the soft skin he finds there. “Please. Move. Please.”

Lucas chuckles, a deep rumble that is so unbelievably sexy Eliott’s erection jerks at the sound, blurting precome to the mattress below. “Give me a second, Princeling,” Lucas breathes. “You’re so fucking tight, feel like I’m gonna come in two seconds if I move.” A small laugh erupts from Eliott before he can smother it. “Think that’s funny, do you? Think it’s funny I get around you and have the stamina of a fifteen-year-old who’s never seen a dick before?” Lucas’s voice gains in strength as he speaks, hips motionless, cock hot and solid inside Eliott’s body.

Eliott giggles again. He can’t help it. That hadn’t even been what he meant, though the thought sends a tingle of pride zinging up his spine. “Yeah,” he teases, gasping for breath. “That and –” he swallows, trying to focus on the words and not the way Lucas feels inside him, “ _you’re so tight,_ ” he mimics with glee. “You sound like porn.”

“Mmm,” Lucas hums and Eliott can’t tell if it’s in agreement or not. In fact, Eliott can barely concentrate on anything beyond Lucas’s thumb, now pressing down on the skin stretched around the length of Lucas’s cock. Eliott shudders. Moving his mouth to press against his wrist, he bites down. “Well you look straight out of the best kind of porn,” Lucas continues in a low rasp, and he’s begun to move, a slow pull from Eliott’s body, “‘it’s only right I do the talking.” He thrusts back in, hips slapping against Eliott with the force of his movement.

His thumb is still there, still slick against Eliott’s stretched rim, just barely breaching alongside his cock and _Eliott can’t breathe,_ can’t think, it’s too much and not enough. He smothers the noise he makes into his wrist, but he knows he’s being loud all the same. “ _God_ , you take it so well,” Lucas groans, pulling out again in a slow, toe-curling drag, and Eliott might die, might _die_ if Lucas pairs dirty talk with what he’s doing to Eliott’s body right now.

“Look at you,” Lucas slurs. He shifts a little, letting the head of his erection tug at Eliott’s rim as he presses his thumb in beside it. Eliott realizes then that he’s been holding his breath and he expels a shuddering exhale, involuntarily accompanied by a noise he hasn’t heard himself make before, high-pitched and desperate. “You look so fucking good.” Lucas thrusts back in. Hard. Eliott keens loudly, jerking forward with the force of it. He feels split apart at the seams, so full, so satisfied, so good. He never wants to know a life without Lucas inside him.

“That’s it,” Lucas soothes, keeping his hips flush with Eliott. “ _Fuck_. Got all my cock in you. Feel good?” He doesn’t pause for an answer, pulling out more quickly now and driving back in with a short, hard thrusts that are pushing noises from Eliott he couldn’t stop if he tried. He can’t think. He can’t think and form words when Lucas is doing this, taking him apart like this with his words and his body. But Lucas isn’t satisfied.

“Eliott,” he demands, tight grip pulling Eliott’s hips back to meet the drive of his cock, “you like it?”

He wants an answer. Eliott knows he wants an answer, but he hasn’t stopped the pace of his hips, the hard tempo of his cock fucking in and out of Eliott’s body, and _Eliott can’t think_.

“Lucas,” he whines, the sound muffled by the way his face is still pressed to his arm on the mattress.

“C’mon,” Lucas grunts, sounding out of breath and lost to his pleasure, but _determined_ too. “Fuck. Does it feel good?”

“Yeah,” Eliott just barely gasps. “Yeah. Lucas. Please. It’s so – just – I can’t – I – just more.” It’s non-sensical. A broken string of words but Eliott knows Lucas will understand him all the same.

Lucas adjusts his hold on Eliott’s hips, hands slippery with sweat, but he manages, and he slams into Eliott. The angle has changed, and he hits Eliott’s prostate dead-on. Eliott’s body tightens like a vice and his vision whites out. He digs his fingers into the mattress and releases an inhuman sound of pleasure. It’s loud. They’re both being so loud. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care as long as Lucas never stops, as long as it can always feel like this.

Lucas’s pace hasn’t slowed but it’s grown sloppy, more frantic, and when he speaks, it’s with obvious effort, words running together. “Wish you could see,” he slurs, driving again and again into that spot that has pleasure roaring in Eliott’s ears. He can barely hear Lucas over it. “Wish you could see it. The way you look. Taking it – my cock. Inside you. _Oh fuck_ ,” his nails dig into Eliott’s skin, “gonna come. Fuck. Eliott. Gonna come. Gonna fill you up.”

Eliott doesn’t expect it. Didn’t even realize he was so close. But at the words from Lucas, he’s coming. Untouched. His body seizes and then releases, cock pulsing again and again onto the mattress beneath him. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt. It’s like the orgasm is being ripped from deep, deep in his belly and he cries out with it, body wracked with pleasure. He’s only peripherally aware of Lucas finding his own release as well, falling forward onto Eliott’s back as he fucks his cock deeper and deeper into Eliott’s body, shuddering with his own pleasure. Eliott collapses down onto the mattress, taking Lucas with him, and he whines at the overstimulation as Lucas’s hips continue to ride out his orgasm. It’s too much but Eliott never wants it to end. Never in his life did he think sex could be like this. All-consuming. Better than just physical release. Coming undone completely with the only person he’s ever trusted to piece him back together again.

Their bodies and breathing slow. Eliott makes an involuntary sound of displeasure as Lucas moves to pull his spent cock from Eliott’s body. “Ssshh,” Lucas hushes in comfort, hand petting over Eliott’s buttcheeks. “Gotta take care of you.”

Eliott hums, crossing his arms beneath his head and smiling into them. The mattress shifts and Eliott blinks his eyes open to watch Lucas make his way across the room towards the bathroom. He sways slightly, raising his hands to steady himself as he walks, and it makes Eliott snicker quietly into his arms. Lucas looks back over his shoulder with an eye roll and grin.

“Shut up.”

Eliott laughs again. “What? I didn’t say anything.” _Whoa_. His voice sounds… deep… gravelly… and so very satisfied.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucas dismisses with a laugh and continues to the bathroom. When he comes back it’s with a warm washcloth. Eliott hums happily as Lucas runs it across his back and bum, cleaning up the residue massage oil. He taps Eliott on the hip. “Roll over, Princeling.” They both cringe at the mess that’s been made of the sheet on the mattress when Eliott does so. “Sorry,” Lucas scrunches his nose, skimming the cloth across Eliott’s lower stomach and chest before he begins work on the mattress, wetting it further in his attempt to clean up the mess, “should have put down a towel.”

Eliott snorts. “Are you apologizing for giving me the best orgasm of my life?” Even saying the words has heat building in Eliott’s cheeks as he remembers the first time Lucas had said the same to him. In the library. Even knowing what had come after, recalling the events doesn’t hurt anymore. That moment in the library had been theirs and theirs alone. And it had led to this. Eliott wouldn’t give it up for anything.

Lucas’s face splits into a grin as he eyes flick back to Eliott. “Best of your life, hunh?”

Eliott lets a smile grow on his face, propping his elbow on the bed to rest his head in the palm of his hand. “Definitely top five. I dunno,” he shrugs, smile most likely resembling a smirk now, “you’ve given yourself a lot of competition.”

Lucas chuckles lightly, turning to toss the washcloth onto the floor. “As long as I’m the only competition.” He means it in jest. Eliott answers him seriously all the same.

“You’ve only ever been your own competition. No one else could come close. It’s always been you.”

Lucas meets his eye, obviously taken aback by the sincerity in Eliott’s tone. His face flushes with colour and Eliott will never get used to that – being able to affect Lucas like that with just a few sweet words. His romantic boy. Lucas’s eyes drop to the mattress as he bites his bottom lip.

“So, who has to sleep on the wet spot?”

He always does this. When he’s overwhelmed by emotion, by the depth of his feeling, he’ll change the subject. Eliott doesn’t mind, has never minded, it’s part of what makes Lucas who he is. That he lets Eliott inside those walls at all will never stop being extraordinary, will never be something Eliott takes for granted.

“Neither,” Eliott offers, going along with the subject change. He shuffles back to the furthest side of the bed and opens his arms for Lucas. “We both know you’ll end up all over me eventually, right? Might as well start the night that way.” It’s only the truth. No matter what positions they fall asleep in, Lucas will almost always end up wrapped all around Eliott. It’s one of Eliott’s very favourite things.

Lucas exhales an amused breath but doesn’t argue, shuffling carefully around the wet spot, he leans to turn off the light before he snuggles down, tucking his head beneath Eliott’s chin and wrapping his arms tightly around Eliott’s chest. Eliott reciprocates, sighing happily as he pulls Lucas snuggly to him. It’s only then he remembers his shoulder. It’s pressed against the bed, now throbbing in time with his heartbeat. The position they’ve chosen has only added to the strain, but he’ll be damned if he’s about to say that and risk Lucas snuggles.

“Eliott?” Lucas whispers, lips moving against Eliott’s chest.

“Mmhmm?” Eliott presses a kiss to the top of Lucas’s head.

Lucas clears his throat and there’s a pregnant pause that has Eliott’s ears perking up. “For me it’s–” another pause, rife with meaning, “only been you.” Eliott holds his breath. “And I know you’re going to be a good dad. I think we’ll be good parents.” Tears spring to Eliott’s eyes. “We’ll do it differently. Better than ours – my dad and your mum. Right?”

Eliott takes a steadying breath, knowing that releasing the overwhelming emotion spilling inside him is not what Lucas needs. “Yes,” he assures, voices frail but steady. “We’re going to be great parents. And you’re going to be a great dad. We’ll do it right.”

Lucas snuggles further into Eliott’s chest with a happy sigh. “Ok.”

 _I love you. I love you. I love you._ “Lucas–”

“Don’t,” Lucas cuts him off, voice gentle and as breakable as glass. “Please. Let’s just sleep now.”

It still gets to be too much for him sometimes, the way he feels about Eliott, the way he feels when they’re together, and especially the way he feels when they talk about the future. It’s the overwhelming happiness he still finds so unfamiliar. Unfamiliar and terrifying. And it’s ok. Eliott doesn’t need to say it. Lucas knows.

_As you wish._

* * * *

Eliott blinks awake in the middle of the night and it takes him a moment to realize why. His shoulder. It’s more than throbbing now. The pain is near excruciating. Lucas has migrated slightly away from Eliott, allowing a gap of space between them, but Eliott has remained on his side, facing Lucas, and with his shoulder uncomfortably bent and pressed against the mattress. He cringes, biting his lip and he rolls onto his back. It doesn’t help.

He’d been dreaming he suddenly recalls. The memory is already growing hazy, but Lucas was there. Lucas was there and… pregnant? Eliott barely muffles a laugh in recalling. Yes, Lucas had been pregnant and very, _very_ annoyed about it. He’d been grumpy and adorable, complaining about back pain. And… Emily had been there, Eliott remembers with a start. Not just there… she was _theirs_. She’d been decorating the baby room with Lucas and complaining that no baby brother of hers was to have ducks painted on the wall. For some reason that had led to them deciding to build a robot… who had then suddenly appeared and offered to be the nanny. Dreams are weird.

Eliott glances over at Lucas who looks beautiful and at peace, sleeping with his arms curled in front of him. But there’s no way Eliott is getting back to sleep now. Not without some serious painkillers and time for them to start working. Eliott carefully sits up, sliding from the bed as silently as possible, turning to tuck the covers more snuggly around Lucas, before he slips on a pair of sweatpants, too snug to be his own, and makes his way to their bedroom door and out into the hall, shutting the door quietly behind him. There’s no way he could root around their own toiletries for painkillers in the dark. And turning on the light would have woken Lucas. He’ll have to hope someone has left some supplies out on a counter somewhere.

The kitchen light is on when Eliott makes his way down the hall towards it. When he enters the space, it’s Yann he sees sitting at the counter flipping through a magazine.

“Hey,” Eliott greets quietly, moving towards the counter.

Yann looks up in surprise. “Hey. What are you doing up?”

Eliott grimaces, bringing a hand up to his shoulder. “Could really use some painkillers for this shoulder.”

“Shit.” Yann nods, moving off the stool and walking over the what looks to be a backpack. “It’s bad?”

Eliott breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Yann has pulled out a small, travel bottle of painkillers. “Yes. But,” he shifts his eyes quickly back to the darkened hallway leading to his and Lucas’s bedroom, “don’t tell Lucas.”

Yann chuckles, dolling out a couple pills into Eliott’s hand. “My lips are sealed.”

Eliott moves to pour himself a glass of water before joining Yann on a stool at the kitchen counter. “What are you doing up?”

“‘M sharing the double twin room with Alexia. Turns out she talks in her sleep.”

Eliott laughs quietly. “Really? About what?”

Yann squints as he recalls, “Farting unicorns I think?”

Eliott splutters, coughing into the sip of water he was attempting to take. “What?!”

“Yeah,” Yann chuckles, patting a hand against Eliott’s back as he coughs. “She was laughing in her sleep too.”

“Wow,” Eliott manages, clearing his throat enough to be able to speak. “Well that might be weirder than mine.”

“Why? What’d you dream about?”

It suddenly occurs to Eliott that perhaps this isn’t something he should be sharing. His dream was the result of a very private conversation with Lucas. But also… Yann doesn’t need to know that part. And if anyone should get the opportunity to tease Lucas alongside Eliott, it’s Lucas’s best friend.

“Uh,” he chuckles a little, bringing a hand up to ruffle through his hair, “Lucas was pregnant.”

It’s Yann’s turn to choke, though he does so on nothing but air. He hits a hand to his chest as he coughs. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” Eliott confirms with a slight laugh. “And he was very cranky about it.”

Yann throws his head back with a laugh that is probably a little too loud for the late hour with people sleeping in the cabin around them but Eliott can’t say he blames him. “Can you imagine the way that kid would complain? And make you wait on him hand and foot, all day every day? God, you better hope science never makes it possible.”

Eliott joins him in his laughter, “Nah, we want to adop –” He stops himself before he says it but judging by the way Yann’s eye’s have widened, he got the gist. Oh god. Eliott really hadn’t meant to reveal that.

“Yeah?” Yann smiles, looking genuinely happy.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Eliott admits. “Sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about it and then with my dream and –”

Yann dismisses his concerns with a smile and wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it. My lips are sealed, remember?” Eliott smiles gratefully and nods. “And it makes sense,” Yann admits. “I swear most of Lucas’s life has been about making shit better for kids who need him. Building a family with you that way sounds exactly right.”

“I think so too,” Eliott admits quietly, eyes dropping to his hands as he thinks of the perfectly imperfect boy sleeping in their bed. The boy he’s going to build a _family_ with.

“You know,” Yann speaks into the silence that has fallen between them, “there was a time I thought I’d have to kick your ass.”

“What?” Eliott asks, looking back to him startled.

“Yeah,” Yann chuckles, shaking his head at himself. “I’d never seen Lucas that way before – the way he was with you. Dunno,” he shrugs, “I guess it brought out protective instincts in me. Lucas has never let someone in that could really hurt him. Not even me. But it was different with you. Different from the very beginning.” The _beginning_. Well that’s an understatement, Eliott thinks.

“And so, you were going to kick my butt?” Eliott asks smiling just a little at the thought, glad to think Lucas has had Yann there for him for so much of his life.

Yann shrugs. “Lucas wouldn’t allow it. But I offered.”

Eliott laughs. “Well, I’m glad you did. I’m glad he had you looking out for him. Whether he wanted it or not.”

“It’s strange to see him like this. This happy and… confident. Not like –” Yann waves a hand through the air as he searches for the words he’s seeking. “Like the kid’s always been a cocky little shit. But it’s a put-on, you know?” Eliott nods. Lucas _is_ confident, but there is no doubting he uses it as a defense mechanism too. “But with you,” Yann smiles, looking thoughtful, “it’s like he’s _actually_ confident for the first time. Like he’s finally letting himself be happy because he can trust it. Am I talking out of my ass or does that make sense?”

“It makes sense,” Eliott confirms, warmth bubbling in his chest at the thought of Lucas’s best friend recognizing how happy Lucas is with Eliott. “It’s all I want – to make him happy. The way he makes me happy.”

“I know,” Yann nods, bringing a hand to rest on what is thankfully Eliott’s good shoulder. “It’s why I never got around to kicking your ass.”

Eliott laughs. “Oh sure. That’s why.”

“Well that and Lucas would have kicked _my_ ass.”

_“What about me?”_

Both Yann and Eliott jump at the sound of his voice and turn to see Lucas, soft and sleep rumpled, shuffling into the kitchen with a yawn as he rubs at one eye with a closed fist. He’s thrown on Eliott’s shirt over his boxer briefs and it hangs loose over his chest. He is so beyond adorable, words couldn’t do the picture he makes justice _._ Eliott turns in his stool, opening his arms for Lucas as he makes his way towards them. Lucas doesn’t hesitate, moving between Eliott’s legs to curl into his chest with another yawn. He’s always softer and more openly affectionate when he’s sleepy. Eliott loves it, wrapping Lucas up tightly in his arms.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart,” Eliott answers, pressing lips to Lucas’s forehead. “We were just talking about your tendency to kick people’s butts.”

“That’s right,” Lucas grumbles, pushing a fist into Eliott’s stomach in a way Eliott is pretty sure is supposed to resemble a punch. He _oofs_ for effect.

“Sorry if we woke you,” Yann says with a soft smile, sounding genuinely apologetic as he looks at Lucas buried in Eliott’s arms.

“You didn’t,” Lucas denies sleepily. “I can’t sleep without him.” He’s referring to Eliott, turning to press his cold nose to Eliott’s neck. The honesty of it makes Eliott’s breath catch in his throat.

Yann’s looking between them. He shakes his head and with a frustrated sigh admits, “You two are so goddamn cute. I can’t deal with this while single. I’m going back to bed.”

Eliott chuckles. “Good luck.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” With a final parting wave, Yann makes his way out of the kitchen and towards the stairs to the second floor.

“Good luck?” Lucas inquires, pushing up and away from Eliott’s chest, hands coming up to cup Eliott’s face.

“Apparently, Alexia talks in her sleep.”

“Oh yeah,” Lucas nods. “She does. She has weird dreams.”

“So I heard,” Eliott grins.

“Why are you up?” Lucas’s fingers trace delicately across Eliott’s face, eyes tracking their movements.

“Same thing,” Eliott shrugs. His shoulder twinges and he just barely stops himself from wincing. No way he can tell Lucas that part. He does that, Lucas will blame himself, thinking he made it worse with their enthusiastic round of sex. Which will _absolutely_ result in a no-sex rule for at least a few days and Eliott cannot have that. No ma’am. “Weird dreams.”

“What did you dream?”

Oh god. He would have to ask. Eliott can feel his cheeks heat immediately, a dead giveaway. Lucas’s eyebrows climb to his forehead and a small smile appears on his face.

“Nothing dirty!” Eliott rushes to explain, knowing that’s exactly where Lucas’s mind just went. Indeed, Lucas looks mildly disappointed.

“Ok, what then?”

“Um… well, you were pregnant.” Eliott admits.

Lucas looks shocked for only a moment before he begins laughing… no, not laughing… giggling. It’s sweet and uncontrolled. It makes him instantly look ten years younger. Eliott can’t help but wonder if this is what Lucas looked like when they were kids, when they found themselves in the library and Eliott gave Lucas his first kiss. If so, no kidding Eliott was so enchanted. He wishes his memory allowed him more than fleeting, non-descrip images.

“Pregnant?” Lucas finally manages to snort. “Why am I not surprised? Knew you wanted to knock me up.” He pets back Eliott’s hair with one hand. “And? What else?”

Eliott scrunches his nose as he remembers. “Uh, you and Emily were decorating the baby’s room with like… robots? But then you were building a robot… and then it came to life? Then I woke up.” He shakes his head. “It was weird. Couldn’t sleep after that.”

“Ems was there?”

Of course Lucas would pick up on that detail. If Eliott is honest, he might have wanted him to. “Yeah, she was there.” He doesn’t shy away from admitting it, though nerves build in his stomach as he gets ready to add the next detail. “She was ours.”

“Ours?” Lucas doesn’t look upset or even terribly surprised, but his hands have stopped their motions.

“Yes,” Eliott confirms, watching Lucas’s reactions carefully. “I mean, it was a dream, so nothing really made total sense, but I think… I think we’d taken her in?” He speaks it as a question, waiting anxiously for Lucas to pick up the thread.

“Adopted her?”

Eliott has no idea, his dream didn’t exactly flesh that out for him, but he answers all the same. “Yes.”

“Is that what you want?” One of Lucas’s hands moves once more on Eliott’s face, cupping his cheek, a thumb gently stroking across it.

“I’ve thought about it,” Eliott admits. “Have you?”

“Yes,” Lucas admits immediately and there’s a smile growing on his face. “I mean I know she wants to be emancipated from her dad,” It’s something that had only come up recently. Eliott had wanted to retain his own lawyer for the matter but Emily, being about as stubborn and head strong as Lucas, had refused and was working with legal aid instead, “but it would probably help with the legal bit if she had caregiver’s stepping up. And even if she manages it,” Lucas continues, “she still needs help, right? She’s so smart and she wants to go to university, so she needs help paying for school and just…” he trails off looking a little embarrassed by the way his voice had begun to build with excitement.

“We could be that for her,” Eliott picks up the thought. “Her support.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees. “The brat would never in a million years let us parent her,” they both laugh slightly at the thought, “but like… legal guardians? People she could count on to always be there? I think she’d like that.”

“And what about you?” Eliott asks. He likely already knows the answer but it’s something he wants to hear from Lucas himself. “Is it what you want?”

Lucas licks his lips nervously and then he’s leaning forward, connecting their foreheads as he closes his eyes with a shaky breath. “Yes,” he whispers. “As long as she does, it’s what I want.”

“Ok.” 

Lucas lifts his head, eyes careful as he regards Eliott. “Ok?”

“Yes,” Eliott nods, letting the smile he’s been holding back break across his face. “We’ll talk to her when we get back.”

Lucas stares at Eliott wide-eyed for a moment before launching forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Eliott’s neck in a tight hug as he buries his face. It does nothing for the pain in Eliott’s shoulder, but he could not care less. He returns the hug, arms tight around Lucas’s back. It doesn’t last long before Lucas is pulling back and pressing a hard kiss to Eliott’s mouth. “Thank you,” he breathes between kisses, “thank you. Thank you. I love you. Thank you.”

“I love you.” Eliott smiles into the kisses until Lucas is satisfied and pulls back fully. “Let’s go back to bed,” he suggests softly, noting that despite his burst of excitement, sleep is still noticeably pressing at Lucas’s eyes.

“Ok,” Lucas agrees, stepping back out from Eliott’s legs. He begins leading the way back towards the hallway to their bedroom before he turns to look over his shoulder. “The ice pack is in the freezer.”

“What?” Eliott stops in his tracks where he’d begun to follow.

One of Lucas’s eyebrows rises in what is very clearly a challenge. “You think I don’t know your shoulder is killing you?” He nods his head towards the freezer. “Get the ice pack. We’ll wrap it. You can sleep on your stomach and I’ll put it on your shoulder.”

Eliott nods in defeat, that does sound like a very good plan. “Okay.” He quickly moves to retrieve the ice pack.

“And, Princeling?” Lucas adds as Eliott walks back towards him. “Next time you try to pull one over on me, it’s no kisses for a week.”

That is way, _way_ worse than a no-sex punishment. So much worse because Eliott knows it’s a threat Lucas would keep.

“I won’t,” he rushes to agree, nearly tripping over the words. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Mmhmm,” Lucas nods, looking amused if not totally convinced. “Now c’mon.” He turns adding a little swing to his hips Eliott is sure is intentional. “Hogging the blankets is no fun if you’re not there to steal them from.”

God, Eliott loves him _so_ much.

* * * *

In what is an entirely out-of-character occurrence, Lucas and Eliott are the first up in the morning. Eliott had awoken as the sun came up. Not wanting to waste another moment sleeping, he’d rolled in Lucas’s arms until he was able to press kisses across Lucas’s sleeping face. The even greater surprise had been that Lucas had awoken with a smile, no grumbling about the early hour, returning Eliott’s kisses and insisting they get up and prepare breakfast for everyone.

Eliott didn’t question it, happily following Lucas into a shower. And while that ended up lasting longer than either of them had intended – though Eliott has _zero_ regrets about that – they still managed to make it to the kitchen prior to anyone else venturing from their rooms. Eliott’s suggestion they add cinnamon and fennel to the eggs had gotten him assigned to toast duty. And while he’d pouted over such a demotion, watching Lucas moving about the kitchen, totally at ease as he prepared everyone’s breakfast was domestic enough a scene for Eliott’s chest to fill with happiness.

“Would you get out the plates, my love?” Lucas asks casually as he begins plating the eggs onto a larger saucer with a cover to keep them warm. The words stop Eliott in his tracks. “What?” Lucas looks back at him curiously where Eliott has frozen mid-stride on his way to deliver the toast to the kitchen’s center island.

“My love,” Eliott repeats. He knows his face has flushed with colour and there’s moisture building in his eyes.

“Yes?” Lucas’s nose scrunches in confusion.

A smack to the back of his head courtesy of his idiot best friend entering the kitchen is the only thing that stops Eliott from either bursting into tears or pressing Lucas up against the counter and kissing him for the duration of the morning… though Eliott has faith he would have been able to achieve both.

“What up, fucker?” Idriss asks as he moves around Eliott, pulling a sleepy looking Manon behind him as they make their way to the waiting food. “ _Ohhh_ , breakfast. Hell yeah!”

“Yes, that’s right. We made breakfast.” Eliott decides to leave out the part where it was 99% Lucas who did so. “And that’s the treatment I get in return?” He rubs the back of his head.

Idriss perches on a stool as Manon moves towards a plate of fruit, and he turns a scathing look on Eliott. “Breakfast is the least you two assholes could do.”

“Excuse me?” Eliott baulks offended. He glances towards Lucas for backup, but his boyfriend is conspicuously quiet, busying himself by plating the pancakes. 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Idriss challenges. “You two were so fucking loud last night, I’m gonna be talking about it in therapy for years.”

“Oh.” _Oh_. Well… that is… well, that’s pretty darn embarrassing if Eliott is honest. He _was_ aware he and Lucas were being loud, but it turns out knowing that and being told that are entirely different things.

“Yes _‘oh’._ You really think I needed to hear what you sound like when –”

“Pancakes!” Lucas yells over Idriss’s voice, placing the rest of the food on the table in front of the increasingly awkward scene taking place.

“I’d love some, thank you,” Manon replies happily, looking amused but game to change the direction of the conversation.

As Eliott turns to look at him, he’s surprised to see a beautiful blush sitting bright and pink on Lucas’s cheeks. He looks… shy… and flustered. He’s embarrassed? Lucas, the king of finding sexual innuendo in every situation is shy? It seems impossible and yet it’s true. Is it because the intimacy of their love making last night was so much more intense? Is it because he’s thinking about their discussion of having kids? Or is it just because it’s about Eliott – about _them?_ Whatever it is, Eliott is captivated.

Another wack to the back of his head interrupts the cascade of increasingly romantic thoughts. “Would you stop hitting me?!” He turns to Idriss aggravated.

“Not until you stop looking at him like that,” Idriss mumbles around the pancake he’s shoving into his mouth with bare hands. The _animal_.

Eliott wrinkles his nose at him in disgust, ignoring all warning and moving around the counter instead to press a kiss to Lucas’s flushed cheek, throwing a challenging glare towards Idriss as he does so.

Idriss opens his mouth, no doubt to say something else ridiculous and unnecessary, when a knock suddenly sounds on the front door. They all stare at one another stupidly.

“That’s odd,” Eliott comments, moving away from Lucas with the intention of answering.

“Hey, no.” Idriss is suddenly in front of him, pushing him back by the chest. “I’m getting it.”

Eliott rolls his eyes. “Who could it possibly be that is a danger to me?”

“I can only fucking imagine. You attract danger to you like a fucking moth.” Idriss jerks his head towards Lucas as though in demonstration before his eyes come back to Eliott. “Stay.” He turns to make his way from the kitchen into the main area of the cabin that leads to the front door. 

“Moths don’t attract danger,” Eliott protests but his voice is drowned out by Lucas’s.

Apparently having rallied from his previous bashfulness, he calls out, “I believe you just admitted I’m _dangerous_ , Idri. Don’t think I’ll forget it.”

Idriss ignores Lucas entirely, disappearing around the corner. Eliott moves to grab plates for himself and Lucas.

“Everything?” He asks Lucas, nodding his head towards the impressive buffet of food spread across the counter. Lucas nods, smiling.

The sound of loud slap suddenly echoes from the other room followed by an “ _OW_!” yelled by Idriss.

“ _That’s what you get. And believe me, I owe you a lot more than that!”_ Another voice replies. Eliott knows that voice. That’s…

“IMANE!” Manon squeals, all previous drowsiness abandoned as she leaps up from her seat and bounds out of the room. High pitched shrieks of happiness quickly follow.

“Imane?” Lucas asks, moving to Eliott’s side, hands coming to wrap around Eliott’s forearm.

“Manon’s best friend,” Eliott explains smiling as he stands. “And Idriss’s sister.”

“Sister?” Lucas’s eyebrows draw up in surprise. “Ah, hence the slap.”

Eliott chuckles, “Yeah well…” The others walk back into the kitchen before he can complete his thought and he turns his attention to Imane.

She meets Eliott’s eyes immediately. “Your Royal Highness,” she offers with exaggerated formality.

“Shut up,” Eliott laughs, moving to give her a hug which she gladly accepts. “What are you even doing here? We weren’t expecting you! Were we?” He glances quickly to Manon for confirmation and she shrugs with a mischievous smile.

“Well I heard that dumbass,” she jerks her head back slightly in Idriss’s direction, “decided to spill the beans about the little nugget they’re expecting and couldn’t wait any longer to give him a slap.”

“I didn’t! It wasn’t even me. It was Eliott!” Idriss protests but Imane ignores him entirely.

“And Sofiane?” Eliott asks smiling. 

“Just getting the room sorted,” she explains.

“Room? You should just stay with us!” Eliott protests but Imane dismisses him with a wave of her hand, eyes going to Lucas.

“You must be Lucas,” she smiles, cocking her head slightly to the side in assessment.

“My reputation proceeds me?” Lucas raises an eyebrow, and it’s hard to tell whether he’s asking or stating a fact. Eliott moves back to his side, spreading a hand across Lucas’s back and looking back towards Imane proudly. He _just_ stops himself from saying it out loud. _Yes, this beautiful boy is MY beautiful boy._

Her own eyebrow quirks, her expression near identical to the one worn by Lucas. “Well,” she gestures towards where Idriss stands pouting and rubbing the side of his head, “my brother won’t stop talking about you so…”

“That is so not true!” Idriss protests loudly as Lucas breaks into laughter.

“I’m here to tell you, Imane,” Lucas leans forward slightly, voice lowered as though sharing a secret, “he’s a bit obsessed. It’s becoming a problem.”

“I swear to…” Idriss groans throwing his hands up in exasperation. Manon laughs and moves to rub his back in comfort.

Imane laughs lightly, affection already decorating her face as she looks at Lucas, and Eliott can feel pride flooding his chest. “Bewitched the Prince _and_ my brother,” she comments cheekily. “You must be something special.”

“He is,” Eliott confirms quickly, smiling down at Lucas.

“God, please ignore him,” Lucas scoffs, refusing to return Eliott’s look though there’s definitely more colour in his cheeks than there had been moments prior. “He’s a romantic idiot.”

Imane offers Lucas an eye roll in commiseration and Eliott is beginning to think maybe he should be a little insulted. “I always expected as much,” she admits with a grin. “Never seen it in action though.”

“Yeah well get ready to be disgusted on the regular,” Idriss suddenly offers from behind her.

“I highly doubt you’re one to talk,” Imane quips, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “And did I ask for your contribution?”

“ _Imane_ ,” Idriss whines, “you already gave me a slap! And I haven’t seen you in _months_. You should be nice to me.”

Imane makes a sound that seems to be a cross between derision and humour. “You deserve a lot more slaps than just one, you dumbass. I may have been gone months, but I’ve been putting up with you being an idiot for a lot longer than that.”

“Imane,” Manon laughs, coming forward to link arms with her, “be nice.”

Imane sighs, looking as though she might give in to the impressive puppy dog eyes Idriss has adopted when Lucas speaks.

“No, please continue. This is better than I could have hoped.” He grins at Imane as she turns back to him. “Idriss barely mentioned you to me. He only threw in a casual ‘my sister’ every once in a while. I can’t believe he kept you from me.”

Imane’s face stretches in a smile. “Yes, well, as we’ve established, my brother is an idiot.”

“Agreed,” Lucas nods. “I was admittedly blinded by the face and body on the kid.” Eliott frowns as Lucas looks towards Idriss, who is wearing a frown that could rival Eliott’s. “And I hadn’t met you.” He throws Imane a flirty wink which Imane accepts with a gamely laugh.

“It’s true. I’m by far the better sibling.”

“Well that’s not even in question”

“If you two are done…” Idriss tries but Imane talks right over him.

She pats Manon’s hand on her arm, “We have some catching up to do, girl. What do you say we grab some of this beautiful food and take over those comfy couches I saw in the other room?”

“Absolutely,” Manon replies happily, releasing Imane’s arm as they both move past the boys and towards the food on the kitchen counter.

Imane turns back towards them. “Lucas?” It’s a question asked in clear indication that she expects him to join.

Lucas’s face bursts into an elated smile, so clearly pleased Eliott can’t even bring himself to be a little bit jealous that Imane has claimed Lucas as her own for at least the duration of breakfast. He sighs, stepping back slightly and watching as Lucas grabs the plate Eliott had only managed to half fill, loading it up and quickly following Manon and Imane to the other room where they can already be heard laughing together.

Eliott looks to Idriss, who is already looking back. “We really should have expected this.”

Idriss shrugs, smiling a little. “I did expect this.” None of his former pout remains. He looks relaxed and happy. Though that part doesn’t entirely surprise Eliott. Idriss attempting to play on Imane’s sympathies to get out of trouble is par for the course. They might adore one another but that has always come with a fair bit of brother/sister squabbling attached.

But the fact that Imane would instantly click with Lucas? Truly, it’s something Eliott should have predicted. He moves to lean against the side of the doorway arch separating the rooms as he looks in on the happy trio eating their breakfasts as they chat. Imane is speaking too quietly for Eliott to make out what she’s saying but her face is animated. She has one hand gripping Lucas’s arm as she speaks to him and Manon laughs. Eliott doesn’t even want to imagine what she might be saying. It doesn’t even matter. Not when Lucas looks like _that_. He’s glowing. A smile is spread across his face and his cheeks are flushed as he laughs with the girls. He’s so clearly happy. Eliott can’t imagine a better sight.

“She’s totally telling him the most embarrassing stories about you she can come up with – like, true or not,” Idriss speaks into the quiet between them as they observe the trio. “I hope you’re aware of that.”

“I am,” Eliott admits, smiling as he watches Lucas. He can feel Idriss’s eyes on the side of his face but doesn’t bother returning the look. He knows exactly what Idriss is thinking anyways.

“Shit, you’re a hopeless case,” Idriss sighs. His hand falls to Eliott’s good shoulder, squeezing affectionately. “C’mon, let’s see if any of this food is still warm. And I could use some coffee after being kept up most of the night by you assholes.” Eliott nods, turning with Idriss back towards the kitchen.

“Idriss!” Imane yells after them. “Coffee for us too please.”

“Ya, good luck with that!” Idriss yells back, but he’s already pulling the mugs needed out of the cupboard and checking that there is enough of the coffee Lucas and Eliott had already prepared.

“And bring the cream and sugar. Please and thank you!” Imane adds and there’s a definite note of laughter in her voice.

Idriss sighs deeply, going about serving the coffee like a man who has long since accepted his lot in life. Eliott chuckles moving to the fridge to retrieve the cream.

“Once Sofiane gets here, she’ll ease up on you,” Eliott offers.

Idriss glances up at him, a sardonic tilt to his mouth. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Yeah,” Eliott laughs lightly. “I was just trying to be nice.”

“The effort is appreciated,” Idriss smiles, so obviously not bothered by the proceedings.

“I’m glad she’s here,” Eliott adds, smiling when Idriss meets his eyes once more. “You guys have become Manon and my family. Now you can be Lucas’s too.”

Idriss’s eyebrows raise in surprise, and he looks taken aback, though not at all unhappy with the suggestion. He looks away for a moment, blinking a few times in an obvious effort to collect himself, and reaches for the tray of coffee before looking back to Eliott with a quirked smile. “I like how you say that like we won’t just replace you with him.”

Eliott scoffs, rolling his eyes quickly as he turns to follow Idriss back into the other room. “You would never.” He lets a smile spread across his face when Idriss looks over to him. “You love me.”

“Well yeah,” Idriss agrees, leading the way into the room. “But he’s got that ass.”

Never mind. Imane can be their family. They can definitely do without Idriss.

* * * *

* * * *

It’s the evening of their last day at the cabin and it’s been a perfect day. A very strategic early morning in bed with Lucas had resulted in Eliott managing to convince him that a few hours of skiing wouldn’t result in anyone’s untimely death, and they’d spent a fun, if overly cautious morning on the hill. The afternoon had everyone venturing into the townsite to find the outdoor public skating rink.

Much to Eliott’s satisfaction, it turned out there _was_ something Lucas wasn’t automatically good at. The sight of Lucas flailing on the ice, arms spread to steady himself, as he wobbled precariously towards Yann before tripping over seemingly nothing and taking them both down in a tangle of limbs and laughter had added at least ten years to Eliott’s life.

They’d ended that entertaining round of outdoor amusement with a dinner at the cabin and now find themselves curled up in front of a roaring fire courtesy of Alexia and Yann, both of whom insist _they_ are the master fire builder, and rousing game of Cards Against Humanity has resulted in much hilarity and smack-talk. Eliott knew the game but had never played before. Lucas, considering himself a _connoisseur of innuendo_ (his words), had of course dominated the game alongside Alexia. Imane and Sofiane has cited exhaustion from their day of travel and bailed earlier in the evening. And Idriss and Manon had retired to their bedroom before dinner, joining everyone only hours later and just in time for the game. Eliott didn’t want to think about it too much. He’s sure they just needed some time to themselves to snuggle, strictly G-rated behaviour and nothing else.

And now they sit collected around the coffee table, spread across various couches, chairs and pillows, with the game paused after an argument had broken out between Idriss and Lucas wherein Eliott’s idiot boyfriend had decided the only solution was to challenge Idriss to a wrestling match. Eliott had shut that down in a way that was _totally_ subtle and not at all obvious and revealing – he doesn’t care what that look on Lucas’s face said.

Conversation has diverged to who everyone would have sex with out of the group, excluding their current partners. Eliott had been immediately disqualified for refusing to name someone other than Lucas. It’s not his fault he can’t imagine having sex with anyone else! But his answer and subsequent pouting after being mocked and disqualified had resulted in Lucas moving from Chloe’s side to flop down half on top of Eliott on the couch so, Eliott supposed, it wasn’t all bad.

“And let me guess,” Chloe says with a snort looking towards Lucas, “Idriss.” Eliott can feel his mouth immediately pull down in a deep frown.

Lucas hums where he rests curled into Eliott’s side. “Fuck yeah.” He throws a nod towards Manon. “No offence intended, Princess.”

Manon laughs happily, tipping her head back against Idriss’s chest. “None taken. If anything, I can confirm that is an excellent choice.” Idriss chuckles, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“Well _I’m_ offended,” comes Yann’s voice from where he sits on the floor near the fire, immediately attracting everyone’s attention. “Since when is it automatically Idriss you’d bang?”

“Awwww, Yann, baby,” Lucas responds immediately, voice infused with that flirty, cheeky tone so intrinsically Lucas. Eliott sighs. “We both know, you and I couldn’t fuck without falling in love. And where would that get us? Heartbreak, lives lost, years passed. Better we stay friends.” Yann laughs.

“Wait,” Idriss interrupts, brows furrowed with his frown. “You saying you wouldn’t fall in love with me? What am I – just a fuck to you?”

Eliott doesn’t like this conversation at all. Who started this stupid game anyways? Oh, that’s right, this stupid boy Eliott loves so much, tucked into his side and laughing with total delight.

“Anyways,” Lucille interrupts, looking amused but throwing a cautious look Eliott’s way, “I don’t believe I’ve had my turn.”

Eliott offers her a small, grateful smile.

“Oh please,” Chloe scoffs, rolling her eyes affectionately at her girlfriend. “You’re just going to say Eliott ‘cause you guys have already slept together. _Boring_.”

“Hey,” Lucille objects, poking Chloe in the side until Chloe giggles, allowing Lucille to pull her close. “No assumptions. I have a plethora of options at my disposal here.” She throws a wink at both Alexia and Yann who laugh looking equally pleased.

“Wait,” Alexia suddenly speaks through laughter, eyes tracking back and forth between Eliott and Lucille. “Weren’t you guys like super young when you dated? And you had sex?” Her eyebrows climb her forehead.

Eliott grins at Lucille, exchanging an amused look and waiting for her to answer.

“I guess?” Lucille laughs. “It definitely involved the parts, but I don’t know,” she tilts her chin at Eliott, “you lasted what – a total of ten seconds, Eli? Do we call that sex?”

Eliott laughs, feeling his face flush with heat. “Hey! I was barely fifteen. And it was my first and only time with you. Judging me on such a performance is entirely unfair. I’ve at least doubled that time.” He squeezes Lucas’s waist, jostling him slightly against his side. “Right, baby?” Everyone around them bursts into laughter… but Lucas? Lucas does _not_. In fact, he’s not even looking at Eliott and he only hums in reply, sitting up slightly and pulling himself away from Eliott as he crosses his arms. Eliott watches him carefully, as conversation continues around them. _Uh oh._

“Well, I’d definitely bang Manon,” Alexia pipes up to a chorus of _WE KNOW_.

Is Lucas mad at the thought of Eliott being with someone else? While Lucas, much like Eliott, is not immune to a random, inconvenient spasm of jealousy, this reaction feels like a bit more.

“I’m just saying,” Alexia continues as Manon laughs, “you ever tire of him, babe, I’d love to introduce to all the ways girls do it better.”

Lucas doesn’t crack a smile, jaw locked, and eyes trained on the flames crackling in the fireplace. He’s definitely mad, and trying to sort out why, while surrounding by their friends, might not be the best option, but there is no way Eliott can continue to sit here knowing he’s upset Lucas.

“Well that is definitely true,” Chloe pipes in, exchanging a fist bump with Alexia through everyone’s laughter.

“Hey,” Eliott whispers, leaning towards Lucas and tuning out the rest of the conversation, “are you ok?”

Lucas remains sitting stiffly but his eyes flicker slightly towards Eliott before once more locking on the fire. “You had sex with Lucille.”

“Yes,” Eliott answers cautiously. Lucas has spoken before of how jealous he was as a child when he’d heard Eliott was dating Lucille, but even in the retelling Lucas had never been like this. If anything, he seemed to look back on those memories fondly, as though proud on behalf of his younger self for how things turned out. Eliott doesn’t understand this reaction.

“She was your first.” Once again, it’s neither a question, nor a comment. Lucas states it like a fact but there’s an open-ended quality to the way he phrases himself that demands a response.

“Yes. She was my first,” Eliott confirms, shifting to bend a leg on the couch and turn himself to face Lucas fully. Is that why Lucas is angry? If that’s the case, the anger Eliott can feel radiating from Lucas feels very misplaced. Surely that’s not all this is. Lucas’s eyes drop to his lap where he twists his hands together, and Eliott sees him inhale a shaky breath, the first indication he’s given that it is not anger guiding his reaction but upset. “Lu, baby,” Eliott whispers, shuffling forward slightly and bending closer, “are you okay?”

“She was your first,” Lucas repeats turning his head to look at Eliott, and the hurt in his eyes shines as clear as day. It’s enough to halt Eliott’s breath, “when you were fifteen.”

Oh. _Oh._ Eliott just barely stops himself from laughing with relief. If he did that, Lucas would shut down completely. Instead Eliott exhales slowly, hand going to the back of Lucas’s neck and threading his fingers through the soft strands he finds there, smiling in what he hopes will serve as comfort. “Lucas, it was before you,” he assures gently. “I was barely fifteen and we just wanted to get it over with. Do it with someone we trusted. We both knew we worked better as friends.” Lucas’s expression hasn’t changed, a mask of pain pulling at every feature of his face. Eliott tugs him a little closer by the back of the head. “I met you when I was almost sixteen.” His smile grows as he sees the dawning awareness in Lucas’s face. “And it was after that – after you – Lucille and I made the friend thing official… said out loud we were only friends.” He presses a quick kiss to Lucas’s stunned mouth. “There was no going back after that night.” It’s perhaps not an entirely true statement. Years passed before they ever found one another again. Years and other people, other experiences, other growth. And yet… it _is_ true. Both their lives forever changed after meeting one another, and there _was_ no going back, there _is_ no going back. Lucas has always been Eliott’s forever.

Lucas is staring at him wide-eyed. He’s dropped his defensive posture and his hands have migrated to the front of Eliott’s sweater, clasping tightly to the material. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, looking a little embarrassed.

“I’m not,” Eliott speaks with conviction, infusing his tone with meaning he hopes Lucas will understand. _I don’t regret any of it. Not the bad. Not the good. Not the mistakes or the wins. It gave me you. Here. Now. I have you._

“You two done with the soulmate shit or you need another moment,” Idriss’s voice breaks into the dense fog that seems to be surrounding them.

Eliott barely has time to move his eyes to Idriss when Lucas has already swung around on the couch to face off with him.

“I changed my mind. I’d never fuck you,” Lucas declares haughtily, former vulnerability instantly nowhere to be seen.

“What? Why?!” Idriss objects, sounding genuinely distressed.

“Timing, Idri. Very important to a sexual relationship. And yours?” Lucas sniffs, shaking his head with utter disappointment. “Absolutely terrible.”

“Hah!” Yann declares victoriously. “See! He wouldn’t fuck you either!”

“Of course not,” Lucas scoffs and he’s settling back against Eliott, a hand resting high on Eliott’s thigh with a squeeze. Eliott’s chest fills with warmth.

“Yeah? Well, like _his_ timing is any better!” Idriss complains, jerking his head in Eliott’s direction. “Doubt he lasts two minutes the second you get a hand on his dick.”

“Hey!” Eliott cries offended. He _definitely_ lasts longer than two minutes… most of the time!

“Oh my god,” Manon sighs loudly, pushing away from Idriss and to a stand, shaking her head in exasperation. “I’m going to get more tea.”

“I’ll join you!” Alexia enthuses, leaping up from her spot on the floor and prancing towards Manon who giggles in response.

Lucas and Idriss barely seem to notice their departure, staring at one another with narrowed eyes.

“You really want me to believe you last longer than two minutes when _Manon_ gets a hand on _your_ dick?” Lucas counters. And it’s not exactly a defence… and the very sentence makes Eliott cringe but… he’ll take it.

“Would you?” Idriss challenges.

Lucas scoffs. “With Manon? Sure.”

Idriss rolls his eyes. “With him.”

Lucas shrugs. “Not what’s important. It’s about him, not me.”

“If you’re good,” Idriss responds, eyebrow arched.

“I am.”

“So am I.”

“Good.”

Eliott is lost. Are they still talking about him? Him and Lucas? What is going on?

“Then we’re in agreement,” Idriss says, eyes locked with Lucas. Agreement? Wait – what exactly are they in agreement about? If it’s that Eliott can’t last longer than two minutes, he’s going to have words.

“Guess we are,” Lucas agrees, tipping his chin up slightly.

Eliott’s mouth opens and closes, words deserting him. A smile starts to peak through on Idriss’s face and when Eliott looks to Lucas bewildered, he too is beginning to smile. What in the –

“Beer?” Idriss asks tipping his head towards the kitchen.

Lucas nods. “Beer.”

They both stare at one another for a moment more before simultaneously rising to make their way to the kitchen. Eliott looks towards Lucille with the intent of asking what the hell just happened but it would seem she and Chloe have taken advantage of everyone else’s distraction and are now making out, Chloe in her lap, Lucille pressed with her back to the foot of the reading chair. He turns to Yann instead.

“Yeah, don’t ask me,” Yann chuckles returning Eliott’s look. “I have no idea what the fuck that was.”

Eliott would respond, only Lucas is suddenly running back into the room. He pushes Eliott back onto the couch before one word is said, straddling him with knees bent on either side of Eliott’s hips. And then they’re kissing. Lucas is clasping Eliott’s face in his hands and the kiss is immediately open-mouthed, tongues tangling in a way that is far too obscene for them to be anywhere but naked in bed. He pulls back just as Eliott’s brain starts functioning enough for him to get a tight grip on Lucas’s hips and begin reciprocating.

Lucas’s face is lit up in a smile that stretches the expanse of it. Eliott can’t do anything but stare up at him, jaw slack, expression undoubtedly awe-struck. Lucas’s hand moves to smooth back Eliott’s hair before his eyes trail back to meet Eliott’s.

“Best I ever had.” He says it quietly, meant only for Eliott to hear. Then with a quick kiss to the tip of Eliott’s nose, he’s up and off, jogging back to the kitchen where Idriss waits laughing.

Eliott stares after him, stunned and uncomfortably turned on. _What just happened?_

“God,” comes Yann’s voice, laughing from the floor. “Can’t believe it was _you_ I thought I had to worry about.”

“What?” Eliott asks turning back to look at him. His thoughts feel like they’re forming in molasses, sticky and slow.

Yann is still chuckling, shaking his head. Eliott is pretty sure the humour is being found at his expense, but he finds he doesn’t quite mind at the moment. “That kid’s like a force of nature.” It’s said with obvious love as Yann looks towards the kitchen and Lucas, before his gaze travels back to Eliott’s. “You’re never gonna be the same. Hope you’re ready for that.”

Happiness glows in Eliott’s chest and he looks from Yann back to where Lucas now sits on the kitchen counter cross-legged, in the midst of demanding the others serve him. He seems to sense Eliott’s gaze and glances back, flushing adorably when he catches Eliott’s eyes on him, his own gaze skittering away, uncharacteristically shy.

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees. “I’m ready.”

* * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... did you enjoy getting inside Eliott's head? I enjoyed writing his ridiculous, messy and romantic thoughts. 
> 
> My tumblr: surrealsunday
> 
> I'm afraid the epilogue will likely be late. My dad is visiting next week and decided to tell me (yes tell... not ask) that he's showing up 5 days early. So my time to work on the epilogue is no more. It's coming... it'll just be late! I'll do the best I can though.


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whewwwwww. Well my friends... here she is. The final chapter. I really appreciate you all waiting longer for this one. I hope it is worth your patience! It is currently very late where I am, after a long day of travel... so I hope there aren't any major mistakes in this upload but if there are, I will catch them when I have another look tomorrow! 
> 
> As always, chapter header graphic is by Alifirecat (@aly-kazam on tumblr) as is the wee little polaroid pic you'll see later in the chapter!

* * * *

Lucas inhales deeply, calling on every ounce of patience he doesn’t have. “No, all the programs will begin on the same day. I told you that. Why would we have different fucking apprenticeships start on different days? They all need to be here for the first day after holidays.”

“Well, _excuse me_ , Mr. Stick-up-the-ass,” Mary scoffs, snapping gum in her mouth where she sits sprawled on the bench in the garage, giving Lucas attitude as she has been doing for the past hour. “I’m the one bringing you the talent. You should be more grateful.”

“Bringing me talent?!” Lucas repeats incredulously. “Why are you saying that like I’m a creepy pimp or some shit? You’re a _youth_ _outreach coordinator_.” The most ridiculous youth outreach coordinator Lucas could ever imagine, but also someone who just so happened to have a direct line to everything happening on the streets, including the kids coming and going. “Your job is to connect kids with the program.”

“Yes,” Mary agrees with a tone that clearly says she thinks Lucas is an idiot. “And they’re gonna be doing shit that takes _talent_. God,” she shakes her head, “I don’t know what he sees in you. You must be great in bed.”

Why the mouthy little… “You know I am,” Lucas makes sure to let a smirk pull at his lips, knowing it will annoy her further, “not that you’ll ever have the pleasure of finding out.”

“I wouldn’t fuck you if you paid me,” Mary snips, flipping her hair behind her shoulder with exactly the amount of insolence Lucas expects. “Now _your_ man on the other hand… I’d do him for free.”

Lucas is all too aware of exactly how happily Mary and any number of other people would gladly claim Eliott if there was ever a hope in hell for them to do so. But there isn’t.

“Yeah,” Lucas snorts, unbothered, “you and the rest of France.” He crosses his arms, looking pointedly down at her from where he’s leaning against the Chevy. “And yet he’s mine. For life.”

“Ugh.” Mary wrinkles her face with what Lucas thinks is meant to be disgust but the impact is lessened by the smile she’s attempting to smother. “I thought you were cocky before. Now you’re _happy_ and cocky. No worse combination.”

Lucas shrugs. She’s not wrong and he’s most definitely not apologizing for it. He cocks his hip, declaring with no inflection to his voice whatsoever, “What is it the kids say, Mary? Don’t hate me ‘cause you ain’t me.”

Mary rolls her eyes so far back in her head she’d give Emily a run for her money in the ‘fed up with Lucas’ department. “You are such a loser. Seriously, your dick must be magic.”

“ _It is,”_ comes an entirely different voice from the door to the garage. Mary and Lucas swing their heads towards it. Eliott stands, wrinkle in his forehead somehow expressing both his amusement and confusion. “But why are you talking about Lucas’s dick?”

Lucas smiles instantly, dropping his cocksure posture and skipping immediately towards him. “It’s one of my favourite topics, Princeling!” He stops directly in front of Eliott, hands immediately seeking out his waist, as he drops his voice. “When in doubt, my dick is bound to inspire the most _stimulating_ conversation.” Eliott grins, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to the tip of Lucas’s nose.

“Mmm,” he hums, smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, “would be happy to contribute to that conversation.”

“Jesus _Christ_ ,” Mary calls loudly from behind Lucas. “I’m leaving before I puke!”

Lucas rolls his eyes at Eliott quickly in apology before turning his head slightly back to her.

“Don’t be jealous now, Mary.” He throws her a quick wink where she stands looking back with utter disdain. “Out of all the pains in my ass, you’re definitely in the top five.”

Eliott’s arms land on his shoulders as he stretches them to wind behind Lucas’s head. “Don’t listen to him, Mary.” He grins, pulling Lucas closer. “You know we love you.”

“Lucky me.” Despite the obvious sarcasm, she smiles with genuine affection. “I am gettin’ the fuck outta here though. Feel like I’m gonna break out in hives surrounded by this rich shit.”

“Oy!” Lucas objects, pulling away from Eliott, to press a protective hand to the Chevy. “You be careful how you talk about my babies. They’re the reason all of this is happening remember.”

Mary rolls her eyes, looking unperturbed. “Not everyone I’m bringing you gives a crap about your scrap metal.”

Lucas gasps so loudly and quickly he chokes on the air, immediately coughing while trying to maintain a glare in Mary’s direction.

“Mary,” Eliott laughs, coming to pat Lucas on the back, “you’re going to make his head explode.”

“I’m just saying,” Mary continues while Lucas continues to gasp for breath, “the last two only want to work with Emma. Can’t say I blame ‘em.” She gives Lucas a quick up-and-down, looking like whatever conclusion she’s come to is not in his favour. “She’s about three hundred times cooler than you.” And while Lucas has to admit the opportunity to work with Emma _and_ Yann is one of the more exciting aspects of the program… Emma? Cooler than _him_? Such lies cannot be allowed to spread. And Mary _would_ spread them. With delight.

“That’s it!” Lucas yells, having recaptured his voice and outrage. “Out! Out, out, out!” He moves to shoo her along where she’s dragging her feet, grabbing her jacket and rolling her eyes in Eliott’s direction.

“Awwww,” she mocks. “Did I hurt your feelings? Didn’t think you had those. Guess I have you to blame for that.” She’s looking at Eliott, who laughs but smartly chooses not to engage in the conversation any further.

“You know forget what I said, you’re my least favourite person,” Lucas says with a scowl.

“Mmhmm.” She smiles as she puts on her jacket and opens the door out of the garage, not bothering to look back as she yells back, “Love you too. Later losers!” The door slams behind her.

“Why did we hire her again?” Lucas asks with a sigh, turning back to face Eliott. He walks towards him until he’s able to stop with hands at Eliott’s waist, head pressed to his chest, which just so happens to be rumbling with laughter Lucas doesn’t appreciate at all. Eliott has some weird bond with Mary and refuses to acknowledge just what a regular pain in Lucas’s ass she is.

“Because she’s the best possible person for the job, because we want to do the best possible job implementing this program,” Eliott lists, amusement clear in his tone. “Oh, and also because you care about her and want to provide her a solid job, livelihood and safe future. There’s that too.”

Lucas tilts his head back up to meet Eliott’s eyes. “Stop reminding me I’m a good person. I’m complaining here.”

Eliott laughs, arms moving back to rest atop Lucas’s shoulder. “Sorry. I know how much you hate that.” One of his hands plays with the hair at the back of Lucas’s head. “You don’t make it easy though – going around acting like a good person the way you do.”

“You’re right,” Lucas agrees with a small smile, eyes dropping to Eliott’s lips. “I’ll get right on correcting that. Starting with Mary. Gonna kick her insolent ass right to the curb next time I see her.”

“No, you won’t.” Eliott leans forward, stopping just before his lips connect with Lucas’s. “You know why?” His voice has dropped to a whisper.

“Why?” Lucas breathes. What were they talking about again?

“Because you’re a good person.” Eliott doesn’t give Lucas an opportunity to disagree, immediately connecting their lips in soft kiss. Goosebumps break out across Lucas’s skin, as he presses into the kiss. He’ll never tire of kissing Eliott.

It takes Lucas a minute to recapture his thoughts when Eliott pulls back, raking fingers gently through Lucas’s hair. “A good person, hunh?” He questions with a slightly quirk of one brow.

“That’s right,” Eliott agrees, eyes gliding gently across Lucas’s face, landing back on his lips.

“Yeah?” Lucas presses hands against Eliott’s chest, pushing to separate them enough for him to run one hand down until he can hook a finger in one of Eliott’s belt loops. He begins walking slowly backwards, pulling Eliott with him. “Would a good person let his boyfriend fuck him in the office?”

“Lucas!” Eliott scolds looking adorably scandalized. His eyes dart around the room as though one of their friends were going to pop out of a car just to shame them.

“Fine,” Lucas allows, still moving backwards, though he glances slightly behind himself to ensure he won’t trip over the side bench and seriously kill the sexy vibes he’s working right now. “Blowjobs then.”

“Lucas…” It’s still a reprimand but he’s giggling now, and he’s not resisting at all. “For the record, being intimate with the person you love definitely doesn’t take away from your good person status.”

“ _Being intimate_ ,” Lucas mocks with a snort. “I’m planning on gagging on your cock, Princeling. You can say it like it is.”

“Stop!” Eliott moves forward laughing to cover Lucas’s smiling mouth with a hand. “Don’t say it like that.” He’s turned scarlet red, but he’s obviously delighted, smile scrunching his eyes into tiny slits, and he’s still moving, slightly leading now with a hand on Lucas’s side.

Lucas reaches to pull Eliott’s hand down from his mouth, bestowing his boyfriend with the cheekiest smile he can manage when sheer joy wants to take over and make him grin like a loon. “Like you’d have me any other way.”

Eliott suddenly stops their progress, holding Lucas firmly. His hand moves to Lucas’s face, thumb gliding across his cheek. The wound courtesy of Lucas’s father months prior has long since healed, a barely-there red mark the only evidence it ever marred Lucas’s face. Just the same, Eliott has a habit of tracing fingers gently over the healed injury. He does so now. “I’d have you every way.”

Lucas could easily turn that statement into a dirty joke. Instead he finds his face heating with what is inevitably going to be a very telling blush. He chooses to scoff instead, turning away from Eliott to hide his bashful reaction. He walks to the door to the office and looks over his shoulder. “You better get your fairy-tale ass in here and dick out before I forget why I’m so goddamn in love with you.”

Eliott laughs. A loud, vibrant, joyous sound. “Well who could argue with that kind of romance?” He moves forward, hands gripping the material of Lucas’s sweatshirt, pushing until they’re inside the dingy space Lucas thinks of as the ‘office’ though it’s truly only the existence of a desk that makes it as such. Lucas lets himself be manhandled. Too flustered by Eliott’s sudden confidence to put up any sort of cursory fight. Eliott doesn’t stop until he has the door slammed behind them. He turns Lucas to press him back against it, flicking the lock as he does so.

“Definitely not Disney Prince’s.” Lucas sounds way too breathless for what was meant to be a witty comeback.

“Mmm,” Eliott intones, hands tight where they span the sides of Lucas’s body. He leans forward, brushing their lips in a tease of a kiss, and Lucas’s mouth opens in anticipation he won’t even try to hide. “You sure I’d make the cut? With such a long list of qualifications?”

“What?” Lucas asks confused, eyes on Eliott’s lips. Why isn’t he being kissed right now? He really doesn’t understand such an injustice.

“Well,” Eliott begins, pulling back slightly when Lucas tips his face forward slightly in an attempt to bridge the gap between them. It’s _infuriating_. “As I recall, Disney Prince requirements were…” He hums a little, tilting his chin up and pursing his lips in concentration as he looks up and away, as though attempting to recall. He’s doing it to torture Lucas. There is no other explanation. “Perfect hair,” his eyes drop back to Lucas’s and his hand comes to rake fingers through Lucas’s hair, his voice soft, “perfect eyes,” his thumb moves to Lucas’s eyebrow, tracing it down to circle his eye, “perfect mouth,” he presses down at the center of Lucas’s lower lip, and his voice has gained a new, gravelly quality. Lucas’s mouth drops open further with the touch and he can’t help but dart his tongue forward to lick the tip of Eliott’s thumb. Eliott swallows heavily, gaze darting between Lucas’s mouth and eyes, before trailing his thumb down further, gliding it gently over Lucas’s Adam’s apple. “Perfect voice.” His hand moves to the side of Lucas’s neck, resting there lightly. His eyes come back to Lucas’s, and there’s a slight slant to the smile growing on his face. He steps forward, hunching slightly as he connects their bodies, pressing their lower bodies together in a way that has Lucas jerking forward into the contact without deliberate intent. “Perfect cock.”

“Eliott…” Lucas whispers, letting his voice come out raw and jagged with need, watching as Eliott’s eyes drop back down to his lips, reveling in the way he’s clearly just as affected. Lucas waits a moment more, letting the tension sing between them until it’s too much, until he thinks he might die if he doesn’t have Eliott’s lips on him. How did he go so long without it? Without kissing Eliott? It took defenses now so foreign to Lucas, he couldn’t channel them if he tried. “Eliott,” he repeats, voice growing in strength and annoyance, “if you don’t kiss me right the fuck now, I am kneeing you in your perfect cock and–”

Eliott presses their lips together before Lucas is able to finish the sentence. And the thing is, Lucas isn’t perfect. Neither is Eliott. There’s only one thing Lucas knows with perfect clarity… no Disney Prince could ever compete.

* * * * 

It’s approaching not just ‘working late’ hours but ‘Eliott is going to come drag you out by your hair’ hours and Lucas knows he needs to stop. His brain stopped fully functioning about an hour ago anyways. Currently everything is just a blur of indistinguishable timetables, names, and curriculum. There’s truly nothing more he can get done tonight. And he still has a good two weeks over the winter holidays to fuss with things before the program begins in the new year. Yet his brain won’t shut up. There’s just… so much to do. Lucas isn’t responsible for all of it. He knows this. Arthur handles most of the overarching logistics. Lucille has been managing a lot of the communication with the kids brought in by Mary or Alexia. Yann and Emma are handling their own curriculum. Lucas too. And Eliott and Daphne have planning for the alternative therapy options well underway, with Idriss managing the physical training portion of that program. All of them have been completing their own prospective timetables and met to ensure every aspect will work together seamlessly. Really, they’re hugely on track. The program looks to be an enormous success and it hasn’t even begun. And yet there’s so much anxiety niggling away at the back of Lucas’s head. All the what ifs. And the persistent worry that if this fails… it was Lucas’s idea in the first place. Eliott would kick his ass for such a comment. Doesn’t make it any less true.

Admittedly, it’s not just the program Lucas has on his mind. The truth is, that’s not what’s really causing anxiety to sit so stubbornly at the forefront of his thoughts. His mom. Lucas will be picking her up tomorrow and bringing her to visit over the holidays. Eliott has a room set-up for her. Despite Lucas’s avid protests, he hasn’t been allowed to see it. “ _It’s a surprise, Lucas. I want to make a good impression,_ ” Eliott had pouted, eyes big and lip jutting out just enough to garner sympathy. Lucas’s argument that Eliott didn’t need to impress _him_ , Lucas’s ass was already as good as his, had gotten him nowhere. It had only resulted in Eliott proclaiming he always wanted to impress Lucas like the no-good romantic he was.

The point being, Lucas’s mom was arriving tomorrow and she’d be spending two full nights. Eliott had insisted she could stay longer but accepted Lucas’s explanation that changes to his mom’s routine would be stressful enough, and making this a shorter visit was the best, healthiest plan for all parties involved. They had time after all. Time to help his mom become comfortable in a new setting – well, perhaps not entirely new, but certainly new in this context – and make her visits more regular. It’s a better potential future than Lucas could have ever hoped for her. He just wants things to go… smoothly. There are so many unknown factors and Lucas knows how badly Eliott wants the visit to go well, to be liked by his “future mother-in-law” as he insisted on calling her, usually with a sweet smile directed Lucas’s way. And Lucas does too. He wants his mother to be happy, and he desperately wants Eliott to be happy. It’s just hard loving two people so much and not being able to guarantee that happiness.

And so, that’s how Manon finds him. Having given up even attempting to distract himself with apprenticeship program details, laying flat on his back, spread across the back seat of the Chevy, legs hanging over the side of the car, worrying over everything he can’t control.

“I would have put money on you being in the Shelby,” Manon says, smiling as she opens the front door of the car and positions herself sideways in the seat, looking back at Lucas. “Thought she was your favourite.”

“I love all my kids equally,” Lucas replies, returning her smile before looking back to the roof off the garage, a bare black surface, interrupted only by the track lighting. “Besides, she’s got her top on. Can’t see the night sky like this from the Shelby anymore.”

Manon laughs softly. “The stars are incredible tonight.” She tips her head to rest against the seat as she too looks up at the barren roof. “You know, we should put up those stars – stickers? You know the one’s you can put on the roof of kid’s rooms? I always wanted those.”

“I had those.” Lucas shifts his head slightly to look at her. “On the roof of my bunk bed at the shelter.”

“Really?” Manon’s smile grows. “Can’t say I would have seen you as the type to have glow-in-the-dark stars above your bed. You seem like you’d scoff at the idea of needing twinkly stars to fall asleep under.”

“Nah,” Lucas denies. “As rough as tough as I am now,” he shifts his shoulders as though his muscles are too big for the space and it makes Manon laugh, “baby teen Lucas definitely wanted sparkly stars above his bed. Alexia had them,” Lucas admits. “Left from some kid before her. And she knew I liked them from all the nights I’d curled up in her bed. So being the most excellent big sister she was, she peeled them off one day. Came to me with a big stack of them.” He laughs a little in remembering. “The stick was totally destroyed, and being industrious children, we rooted out the glue in supply cupboard. Turned out to be superglue. We didn’t know.”

Manon laughs more loudly. “Super glue?”

“Yeah,” Lucas returns her laughter. “Nearly permanently glued one to my finger. But those things aren’t going _anywhere_. Gonna have to make sure they’re preserved during the renovations. Can’t have a legacy like that being destroyed.”

“Oh definitely,” Manon agrees, her tone thoroughly amused. “I wanted them so badly as a kid, but they weren’t exactly going to stick to the roof of a canopy bed. You’re lucky.”

Lucas snorts a little. “Well I definitely didn’t have a canopy bed impeding me, that’s for sure.”

“Oh god,” Manon groans, sounding thoroughly annoyed with herself. “That came out so poorly. I’m sorry, Lucas. I didn’t mean that like… god, here I am prattling on about how sad it is I didn’t get glow-in-the-dark stars above my bed in my cushy palace home when you were…” She trails off, obviously feeling one more word away from further misstep.

“Princess,” Lucas comforts with a smile, “relax. I’m alright. I’m not offended.”

“Just the same,” she says, voice ripe with apology, “I shouldn’t have spoken like that. Like I had reason for complaint. Eliott and I had such a privileged upbringing, even with the work I do in the community, I sometimes forget the disparity in experience.”

“Well you two had your mother to deal with so, homeless or not, I still wouldn’t have traded experiences.” He says it mostly in jest. Maybe eighty percent in jest.

She smiles, rolling her eyes just a little and looking more relaxed. “Speaking of my mother,” she hedges, her expression becoming more serious if a bit wary, “you’re sure you’re comfortable with her being present when your mom arrives tomorrow? She will respect your wishes if you do not want her there.”

“You mean she’ll respect Eliott’s wishes in telling her to take a hike.” Lucas is under no illusion he holds any sway when it comes to what the Queen does or does not do.

“Well, perhaps,” Manon allows. “Your needs come first for Eliott. And for my mother, Eliott comes first. So, by simple proxy, your opinion _must_ be important to our mother.” She says it all with a wry smile, likely knowing just how little the opinion of the Queen means to Lucas under any circumstances.

“Yeah well,” Lucas sighs, getting back to the subject at hand, “it might not be what I’d choose but I think it will help both Eliott and my mom to have her there. My mom remembers her and strangely enough,” he adds with an ironic tilt of his eyebrow, “they are pleasant memories. I think having her there will sort of ease the pressure for everyone.”

“Careful,” Manon laughs, “coming from you that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Hey now,” Lucas objects. “You watch what you say.”

Manon grins. “Rest assured, I don’t think anyone could mistake you as having positive feelings for my mother.” She raises an eyebrow. “You think I didn’t hear you mumbling during that family dinner? What was it?” She taps her chin in a mockery of remembering. “Queen of Refuse? Queen of Slime? Queen of… wait, I can’t remember the last one.”

“Putrescence,” Lucas admits with a smile of his own. “And to be fair, that’s a brilliant reference.” It had been the one and only ‘family’ dinner they’d all attended. It had been in the interest of discussing residences, most particularly, their proposal that the Queen move to one of the alternative rural properties **.** Lucas hadn’t seen a need to be a part of a conversation that should be between a mother and her children… and well, quite frankly, Lucas didn’t want to be there. But Eliott had pulled the puppy dog eyes and the “ _You’re my life partner, Lucas, I need you there_ ” card, and so, there Lucas sat, in all his uncomfortable glory. And so what if he calls on Princess Bride references to soothe himself. The Queen hadn’t heard him. Manon only did because she’d been sat to Lucas’s right. The words themselves had been meant for Eliott, who had responded by resting a hand high on Lucas’s thigh with a light squeeze. Lucas still isn’t sure whether it was meant to soothe him or rile him up further, a comfort or a threat. Either way, it worked, and he’d sunk back into his seat as the group had finalized details. The Queen would move to the Château de Rambouillet property. A step down from the luxury offered by the Royal Palace but not hugely, still an expansive property that was sure to meet her need for unnecessary excess, Lucas had thought somewhat bitterly. Eliott, Lucas, Manon and Idriss, would remain for now at the Palace, with plans in the future for both couples to move into smaller residences in a few years, after the apprenticeship program had been established and ideally expanded. A ‘Principal’ of sorts would remain living on sight, aka. Lucille… and with Lucille, Chloe. The Palace, in the long term, was to become more school than residence. Lucas’s head spun with the gravity of their future plans. But as terrifying as it might be to commit to such plans – to know he had committed to this future _with_ Eliott – it was exciting too.

“Lucas.” Manon pulls Lucas back from the spiral of his thoughts and he turns to her, realizing she’d likely said something he missed entirely while deep in his own musings.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“It’s fine.” She shakes her head kindly. “We should get going though. Idriss and Sofiane made dinner.”

“Wait – what?” Lucas hauls himself to an upright position, staring at Manon in confusion. “Idri and Sofiane?”

“Yeah,” Manon laughs, obviously appreciating the shock on Lucas’s face. “We wanted to let the kitchen staff go early – trying to get everyone more accustomed to the new program hours. We all need to start fending for ourselves around here a little more.”

Well, yes, Lucas knows all that but… “Idriss and Sofiane though?! Idriss looks like the kind of guy who would slap a hunk of raw meat between two pieces of bread and call it a day.”

“Ok let’s be clear, you also look exactly like that kind of guy,” Manon points out. Lucas can’t help but nod in acquiesce. “But Sofiane is a good cook. Imane too. And she’s there to supervise.” Lucas relaxes at that news. No way Imane will let them get away with anything less than decently edible.

“Well, as long as Imane’s keeping them in line.” Lucas pulls himself up to hop over the edge of the car, turning to open Manon’s door for her and lending a hand as she pulls herself to a stand. She’s not particularly showing yet, but the pregnancy has not been entirely kind to her, and she’s battled with a fair bit of regular nausea.

“Thank you.” She smiles at him sweetly. Lucas turns to lead the way out of the garage but Manon’s gentle hand to his shoulder stops him. He glances back at her. “And Lucas? I’ll be there tomorrow as well. We’re all there for you, ok? And we’ll make this the best possible experience for your mom.”

He nods, a little awkward with it as he glances away. “I know. Uh,” he clears his throat, “we should get going though. Guessing that idiot Prince of mine sent you after me in some ridiculous attempt to seem less like the needy boyfriend he is.”

Manon laughs, easily allowing the change of topic. She’s a lot like Eliott that way, Lucas thinks. He’s eternally grateful for their shared traits. “He did indeed. But don’t tell him I said that. He’s got it in his head he’s capable of being calm, cool, and collected when it comes to you.”

“See that’s why he’s the idiot Prince.” They both laugh.

“Alright,” she moves forward to link arms with him, “let’s go see what our idiots have in store for dinner then.”

* * * *

“And the cumin?” Imane asks, seated next to Lucas around the kitchen’s bench table. 

“Yes, love.” Sofiane rolls his eyes slightly but with a smile that says he’s anything but annoyed. “You know I didn’t let him,” he gestures towards Idriss who already looks offended, “handle the spices. He flavours like a white boy.”

“Hey!” Lucas objects on principal before reconsidering. “Actually nah, that’s fair.” Imane and Sofiane laugh.

“It is _not_ fair!” Idriss counters. “I don’t do anything like a white boy! And you want me to keep cooking for you, you’ll watch what you say.”

“To be fair,” Eliott chips in, coming to squeeze into the bench next to Lucas, hand immediately moving to rub against Lucas’s back, “we haven’t tried it yet. That might not be something we want at all.”

“Wow,” Idriss scoffs, setting the dishes down on the table with a loud thump. “You’re all ungrateful dicks.”

“It’s going to be amazing, hun,” Manon comforts, coming up behind Idriss with more dishes which she places on the table far more gently, before turning to pull Idriss in for a quick kiss on the cheek. “They just like to get you worked up.”

Lucas’s brain lights up with possibilities for innuendo. “Well, that is definitely tr–” Eliott’s hand covers his mouth before he can finish the thought.

“Don’t.” It’s spoken as a quiet warning directly into his ear, hand dropping from his mouth to his upper thigh with a deliberate squeeze. And well… that’s quite ok. Lucas would far rather bait Eliott than Idriss anyways.

“Or what?” He bites his lip turning to look at Eliott, their faces so close he can feel the heat of Eliott’s breath on his lips.

“Shove in! Shove in!” Idriss interrupts their sexually charged stand-off, pushing at Eliott’s shoulders until, with an irritated sigh, Eliott breaks eye contact, turning to look at him.

“Could you exercise some patience perhaps?” Eliott snipes.

“Sure,” Idriss agrees with a mocking smile. “Just as soon as you start backing me up like the bro you’re supposed to be. Letting ‘em insult my cooking…” He trails off in a disgruntled mumble.

“I only said we hadn’t tried it yet!”

Their bickering continues as Lucas and Imane begin shuffling down the bench and everyone settles themselves down to dinner. Conversation picks up around the table, but Lucas has a hard time focusing on it. The food _is_ good, and he dives in readily but there’s a buzz beneath his skin. The anxiety and tension he’s been feeling for days simmers there, but in a different form… like anticipation before release. That look Eliott gave him, irritated but… authoritative. Lucas can’t get it out of his mind, and he scratches at his own thighs restlessly, thinking of the way Eliott’s hand had felt, squeezing in gentle warning. He needs out of his own head and the sudden possibility of being allowed that is crystal clear. It’s what Eliott can give him. What Eliott has always wanted to give him. And Lucas wants it. He wants to let go of control, to surrender this pressure to someone else… no, not someone else. To Eliott. He trusts Eliott. And he needs this.

Lucas turns to look at Eliott’s profile. Eliott seems to be engaged in some sort of verbal battle over what is worse, Idriss seasoning too little or Eliott seasoning in all the wrong ways. Eliott seems to think his culinary creativity is just lost on everyone else (it’s not, Lucas can attest the fact that Eliott’s taste buds just truly aren’t normal). Lucas’s eyes trace the lines of Eliott’s jaw as it clenches in irritation, he raises a hand, gesturing with unnecessary drama as he defends himself while Imane laughs. The veins in his forearm are popping against his pale skin as the muscles clench and ripple with each gesticulation. It’s truly confounding that Lucas was able to find other men attractive when Eliott was just… there… existing somewhere in the world.

“He’s not going to back you up just because he’s your boy,” Idriss argues, his tone attracting Lucas’s attention. “He’s probably already fallen victim to poisoning courtesy of your pitiful excuse-for-cooking.”

“That’s not true!” Eliott objects loudly. “Tell them, Lu. I’m an excellent cook.” He most definitely is not.

“Hm,” Lucas hums as the table’s attention turns to him. “Dunno, Princeling. Been a while since you used those skills on me.” That is entirely because Lucas refuses to allow such an opportunity, but he doesn’t need to mention that part. Not for his purposes. Eliott’s mouth opens to object. Lucas continues before he’s able, “Now Idriss on the other hand,” he pauses long enough to stretch slightly with a happy hum, arms moving to cross behind his head in a way that makes his shirt pull up slightly on his stomach, revealing a slice of his belly, “well I’ve had a _taste_ of his skills, and I gotta say, I’m a fan.”

“Yeah,” Imane scoffs. “You _would_ be a fan of his bland white-boy seasoning. A shame to our family.” Sofiane reaches across the table to give her a high-five while Idriss squawks with indignation. He scowls at his sister for a moment before directing his question to Lucas.

“When’d I even cook for you anyways?” He leans forward to better see Lucas as Eliott separates them on the bench.

“Oh, you remember.” Lucas leans forward too, inching closer and feels Eliott tense between them. _Perfect_. “Those _incredible_ sandwiches you made. _God_.” Lucas closes his eyes and moans as though remembering an utter delicacy. In actuality it had been a peanut butter and jam sandwich that Idriss had packed for himself while out at the food bank with Manon and forgotten. It was flattened at the bottom of his bag and only edible in so much as they were both starving after training. Idriss squints his eyes in suspicion as he assesses Lucas, clearly remembering to what Lucas is referring but not wanting to contradict him lest that mean admitting he’s not in fact a phenomenal cook. “It was memorable. One of the best I’ve had,” Lucas continues, pulling his lower lip into his mouth as he hums. Eliott’s arms move to cross against his chest. It only takes a split-second glance to note Eliott’s fingers clenched in the muscle of his biceps.

“Well forgive me if I don’t take your opinion all that seriously,” Imane interrupts forcing Lucas to look away from the delightful tension building beside him. “Besides, you haven’t had a sandwich until Sofi makes you one.”

“That’s right, habibti!” Sofiane crows delighted, staring at his wife in clear adoration.

“Well that’s not fair!” Idriss complains. “You should side with your brother over your husband.”

“Says who?” Imane scoffs. “My husband can _cook_.”

“I can cook,” Idriss disagrees.

“Yeah, maybe,” Imane concedes, “but you can’t season.”

The two of them continue to squabble as conversation quickly picks up once more across the table, and this time, Lucas pays attention. It takes more energy than he has stored in his reserves but it’s worth it. Worth it for the way Eliott freezes every time Lucas leans across him to say something to Idriss, worth it for the way Eliott’s hand rests possessively over Lucas’s inner thigh, fingers digging in with purpose as Lucas shamelessly flirts with Idriss and then Sofiane. He sees an opportunity when Sofiane remarks on his sweatshirt.

“It’s a thrift shop find, sorry,” Lucas admits with a shrug. “Here, though,” he begins pulling the sweatshirt up over his head, “you can check the label.”

“I didn’t mean you had to take it off,” Sofiane laughs.

“Eh, it’s fine.” Lucas throws him a wink. “Don’t mind stripping for you at all.” Lucas hands his sweatshirt across the table.

Eliott’s hand had tightened on his thigh but it moves as Lucas leans forward, his arm wrapping around Lucas’s back, coming to rest on his waist as he squeezes him closer, lips directly at Lucas’s ear. “Stop it.”

“What?” Lucas doesn’t bother hiding the mischievous quality of the smile growing on his face as he turns his head slightly to look at Eliott.

“You know wha – wait.” Eliott pauses in the middle of his sentence, leaning back slightly as his eyes drop down Lucas’s body. “That’s my shirt.”

“I know.” Lucas’s tongue darts out to wet his lips as he returns Eliott’s heated gaze, and he revels in the way Eliott’s eyes immediately drop to the sight. “I like smelling like you.” It’s only the truth. All of Eliott’s t-shirts – even freshly laundered – have a distinctly sweet smell to them that is all Eliott. It’s only a matter of time before Eliott realizes Lucas has been squirreling them away in his own wardrobe.

Eliott has frozen in place, mouth parted, and eyes locked on Lucas’s face. He seems to come alive with a start, hand latching around Lucas’s bicep. “We’re leaving,” he announces to the table though he barely looks at anyone, instantly turning to shove at Idriss until, with some grumbling, the other man moves and Eliott is able to begin dragging Lucas from the bench.

“I’m sorry,” comes Sofiane’s voice. “Did we say something to offend you?” He really is incredibly sweet. Openly soft and gentle. A perfect contrast to Imane’s tougher, more defensive exterior.

Eliott doesn’t seem to have heard Sofiane at all, hands at Lucas’s waist as he hauls him from the bench. Lucas doesn’t fight him at all, delighting in the way Eliott seems unable to concentrate on anything more than keeping his hands on Lucas. But while his boyfriend might have devolved to a possessive caveman state, Lucas refuses to be so rude. And the way he pulls Eliott to a stop, in order to turn back to Sofiane, has nothing at all to do with riling Eliott up even further.

“Not at all, my new and entirely too attractive friend,” Lucas smiles as Sofiane laughs. “And hey,” he gestures at the sweatshirt still in Sofiane’s hands, “hang on to that for now. I’ll make sure we see one another _lots_ from now on.” He throws in another wink while Imane snorts. But it’s not her reaction Lucas is waiting for. It’s the reaction of his boyfriend, whose hands are now tight at his waist, spinning and steering him towards the door leading out of the kitchen.

“Yeah, you’ll get used to that,” Lucas hears Idriss reply to presumably Sofiane. “They’re fucking animals… wait… animals fucking? That’s probably more accurate.” His voice and the sound of their friends’ laughter grows distant as Eliott directs Lucas out of the kitchen. But when Lucas moves to turn the corner leading down the hall to the foyer, Eliott’s hands tighten on his waist, pushing him forward slightly and towards an area of the Palace, Lucas hasn’t ventured.

Lucas knocks Eliott’s hands off his waist and swings around, tipping his chin a little higher. “Just where do you think you’re taking me, Princeling?” Eliott doesn’t allow their pace to stop, his expression fierce as he moves forward resolutely, forcing Lucas to keep pace while walking backwards. While Lucas is hardly as confident about walking with no idea what’s behind him in the same way Eliott always seems to be, he’ll be damned if he shows anything less than utter cool at the present moment. But Eliott refuses to respond, only looking over Lucas’s shoulder and in the direction of their path, and that just won’t do. Lucas has never done well without 100% of Eliott’s focus on him. “I’m just saying–” His back suddenly bumps into… he glances over his shoulder, _oh_ , the open doorway leading to the back stairway. _Well then_. “I’m just saying,” he repeats, shuffling a little to prop himself against the door jam – _cooler than cool_ , that’s him, “if I wanted to be dragged into some dark corner for a quick handy, I could’ve grabbed Idriss.”

He's moving before he realizes Eliott has taken hold of his waist, manhandled until his back meets the wall of the stairwell, Eliott immediately pushing into his space, breath right on Lucas’s lips. “Don’t joke about that.”

“Who says I’m joking?” Lucas’s breath is already coming short.

Eliott’s jaw tenses, his brow furrowing. “Why are you being so – you’re making me – why are you trying to make me mad?”

Lucas smiles a little, tipping his chin up in defiance. “Mad? You’re not mad. You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I have no reason to be jealous.” Eliott says it as a fact. And it is. But it’s a lie too.

“No,” Lucas agrees. “You don’t. But you are. You can’t stand it. You know I’m yours and you _hate_ the thought of me with anyone else.”

“You’re not going to be with anyone else.” His hands slide up from Lucas’s waist to rest against his rib cage, still holding him firmly to the wall.

“So why are you so jealous?”

“Why are you trying to talk me in circles?” Eliott hands expand and contract against Lucas’s body. “Why are you being so frustrating? You’re the one who was trying to – trying to–”

“What? Trying to what?” Lucas’s heartbeat is reverberating in his chest. He can’t slow it. Doesn’t want to.

“You know exactly what you were doing. Flirting like that with Idriss. With Sofiane.” His nostrils flare slightly as he says the names.

“Yeah. And?”

“You were doing it to upset me.”

“You’re not upset,” Lucas breathes, shifting his lower body forward and away from the wall until he’s able to _just_ press against Eliott. “You’re hard.”

Eliott’s mouth parts slightly. He exhales a shaky breath before he finds his resolve once more, voice affected but strong. “Not because of that. Not because I’m jealous.”

“No,” Lucas agrees. He shifts a little and Eliott’s hands on his chest tighten in response. “Because you want to prove it. You wanna prove I’m yours. You want to tap into some primal caveman instinct to fuck me so hard I can’t remember anyone else’s name.”

“Don’t say it like that.” He could not sound less convinced of his own demands.

“Why? You really think what you want to do to me right now is ‘make love’?” Lucas mocks, moving his face until only a bare whisper of space separates their lips. “You don’t. You want to tie me up. Make me yours. Only yours. You want to fuck me into the mattress.”

“You want it too.” Eliott’s jaw tightens and his hands move down to Lucas’s hips, pressing him roughly back into the wall with a satisfying thump.

“Not denying that,” Lucas voice wavers. He’s so turned on he can barely breathe, barely get the words out. “You really think you have what it takes though? Think you can get me there?”

“Do you think you could take it?” The more obviously affected Lucas becomes, the more confident and cocksure Eliott’s voice. “You’re so sure. So smug. Flirting with other men… baiting me. Waiting for me to toss you around because you’re so _fucking_ hard up for it. So needy. But are you ready? You ready to lose yourself to me? Over and over again?” Oh god. Lucas can feel his cock throb in his pants at the words. He’s never wanted Eliott’s hands on him more. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up without begging.

He grasps for whatever shreds of arrogance are left to latch to. “Over and over? Mighty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Yes. You know why?” There’s a cocky smile growing on Eliott’s face, so very sexy the sight of it sends pleasure rippling through Lucas’s body until it sits heavy in his balls. “Because you are mine. You’re mine when you’re flirting with Idriss, you’re mine when you’re being a brat, you’re mine when you’re making me jealous, you’re mine when we make love and your cock is inside me, and you’re going to remember nothing but the fact that you’re mine when I’m _fucking_ you into the mattress.”

“You’re mine too.” Lucas wades through the thick haze of heat surrounding them to be able to say it. But it’s true. It’s always been true.

“Yes.” Eliott’s smile is slanted, his eyes bright and steady. “And I’m going to prove it to you.”

“Prove it with your cock?” Lucas attempts a derisive laugh, but it comes out needy and breathless. “Really that desperate, are you?”

“No.” Eliott’s head tilts slightly, his eyes travelling across Lucas’s face. “But you are.”

“Excuse me?” Lucas’s eyebrows fly to his forehead and he’d say more, he’d lay the snark on really damn thick, if it weren’t for the fact that one of Eliott’s hands has moved to the front of his pants, pressing hot and firm where Lucas’s erection is stretching the soft fabric. 

“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” Eliott’s hand slips down into Lucas’s joggers, into his briefs, fingers spreading against the hot, stretched skin of Lucas’s cock. The touch pulls a moan from Lucas, both of his hands moving to hold tight to Eliott’s forearm. “You want me to make you say it.” Eliott moves his hand, fingertips dragging over sensitive skin before he grips, pumping the base of Lucas’s cock. Lucas’s eyes close at the feeling. “You want me to take control and prove it. That I’m yours. And you’re mine.” He moves to the head, thumb skimming across the tip to collect the moisture there before he spreads it back down. “You want me to fuck you so hard you don’t know anything else. Anyone else. Only that. Only us.” His hand is suddenly gone, pulled from Lucas’s pants.

“Eliott…” It’s a high-pitched whine, desperate and needy. He opens his eyes to see Eliott spitting into his own hand before he slips it back into Lucas’s pants, slick and hot now. Lucas groans loudly in relief.

“And next time you flirt with Idriss you’re going to remember it. What it felt like to have my cock inside you.” His hand tightens, and its pace increases. “What it felt like to be mine. Only mine. And you’re going to want it again. From me.”

“Yes,” Lucas moans. His hips twitch in Eliott’s hold and he struggles to keep his eyes open and on Eliott’s face. “And you – you will – you–”

“Yes. I will too. But then – I already did.” Eliott licks his lips, the pace of his hand relentless, thumb flicking over the swollen head of Lucas’s cock as he brings Lucas closer and closer to orgasm. “Sitting there, watching you tonight, watching you flirt. It’s all I was thinking. That you’re mine.” His leg moves between Lucas’s and he presses up, driving his thigh into Lucas’s balls as his hand continues its harsh movements. “I’m still going to prove it.”

“Eli – I’m gonna – god, I’m gonna –” Lucas can feel it swelling in him, his balls pulling up towards his body as his orgasm begins to crest.

“Gonna come? Gonna come for me?” Eliott’s voice is soft and encouraging, his hand jerking just the head of Lucas’s cock now.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Lucas moans, eyes slipping shut as it begins to take him. “Oh god, I’m–” And Eliott’s hand is gone. Just as Lucas could feel it dragging him under. It’s just… gone. “No. No, no. Please. I’m so close. Eliott, please.” His eyes open, staring at Eliott frantically. No. _No._ He was so close. He has to come. It won’t take more than a couple pulls. He needs to come. He _needs_ it.

“Sssshhh. No.” Eliott bats Lucas’s hand away when he reaches for himself. “None of that.” Then he’s carefully tucking Lucas back into his joggers, hard and stretching the front of the cotton obscenely. The feel of the material itself is almost too much. Almost enough to bring him there. Lucas shudders, whining pathetically. “We’re going to go upstairs. You’re going to shower. Alone. And you’re not going to get yourself off. Ok, baby?”

“But I–” Lucas tries but is cut off by Eliott’s finger pressed to his lips to silence him.

“I’m going to take care of you but only if you’re good.” Eliott’s voice is stern, his manner self-assured and too calm. It’s driving Lucas insane. That Lucas can be so far gone and Eliott so in control. He can’t stand it.

Lucas manages a scoff, searching for any attitude he has left. “I’m to be your _good boy_ , am I? Real creative–” Eliott’s fingers are suddenly at the head of his cock, squeezing viciously through the cotton. Lucas’s voice cuts off with a strangled sound, vision blackening at the corners, narrowing on Eliott’s face.

“Yes.” Eliott’s fingers release slightly but don’t move, still lightly pinching the head of Lucas’s cock. “You’re going to be my _good boy_ ,” there the same mocking lilt to his voice that there had been in Lucas’s and yet somehow the words sound entirely different. They have Lucas’s breath catching in his throat and his eyes fluttering closed, “and then I’ll take care of you. Can you do that for me? Lucas?” Lucas’s eyes open at the command in Eliott’s tone. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” He’d do anything for Eliott. Anything and everything. He’s never trusted a person more. He can be good.

* * * *

It’s harder than he thought – oh god, he’s so desperate he can’t even appreciate the pun – not to touch himself in the shower. His erection hasn’t deflated whatsoever, hard and red and angry looking, it juts from his body, begging for someone’s touch. Eliott’s touch. Lucas still feels so close. Like just a couple tugs and he could get himself there. Even that doesn’t feel like it would be near enough. He feels too far gone for one orgasm to provide any real satisfaction. But as desperate as he is, he doesn’t want to disappoint Eliott. It’s a ridiculous feeling. The need to please. But he wants to, and he lets himself feel it, that needy, wonton desire in his chest. He wants to be _good_. His face heats to even think it. But it’s true.

He feels shaky and off balance as he dries himself, as though the ground keeps tipping beneath him, and one simple touch will have him toppling over. When Lucas re-enters their room, Eliott is standing next to the bed in only his briefs. He has his back turned to the rest of the room and Lucas takes a moment to appreciate the view, letting his eyes slide down the muscular lines of Eliott’s back to his ass, pert and shapely and just the right size. And then he’s turning. Lucas’s eyes flick up to meet Eliott’s gaze, which rests hot and heavy on his nude form. Lucas hadn’t seen the point in wearing a towel into the room. Even the thought of the cotton brushing against his swollen cockhead had been too much. Eliott is holding something in his hands, smoothing it back and forth between his palms as he tilts his head considering Lucas. A tie. The sight sends a shock of pleasure directly to Lucas’s cock which throbs in return, precome dribbling down the length. God, he needs this so badly. As badly as he needs to come.

“It’s silk,” Eliott speaks, his voice is deep, obviously turned on, but steady and almost gentle. “It’ll be soft on your wrists.” Lucas swallows heavily. He can’t stop staring at it, at the silk tie being pulled through Eliott’s hands. “Lucas,” Lucas’s eyes fly to him, “come here.”

When Lucas reaches Eliott, he doesn’t touch. He stands, wobbling slightly, and he waits. A sweet smile pulls at the corners of Eliott’s mouth.

“Lie down on the bed. On your back.” It’s a demand but spoken with just the right amount of soft suggestion to make it sound like Eliott. To make it sound like something Lucas wants to do.

Lucas swallows heavily, licking lips that now feel dry and parched, before he nods, moving to kneel up onto the bed. Eliott has already pulled down the sheets and Lucas crawls to the center of the bed before he turns over, settling himself on his back. He feels awkward and tense. He’s _nervous_ , he realizes with a start. There’s a shiver running through him and all his muscles are locked. His erection still stands rigid, aching for relief, but he’s anxious too. He’s not sure why or where the sudden nerves are coming from, but his stomach has tightened with them.

Lucas runs his nails nervously along the mattress sheet beneath him and turns his head slightly. Eliott has procured lube and condoms from their bedside drawer and he drops them along with the tie beside Lucas on the bed.

“No condom.” The words run together, his throat scratchy and dry, his voice brittle. Eliott’s eyes flick to him and Lucas tries again, swallowing before speaking. “No condom. I don’t – I don’t want you to.” It’s ineloquent and truly a piss poor way of explaining himself but he can’t squeeze out anything more, immediately holding his breath.

One of Eliott’s eyebrows rises. “You sure?” It won’t be the first time they’ve done it like that. They both got tested over a month ago and the moment they’d had the results, they’d taken advantage. But it’s never been this way. Eliott inside Lucas. And it’s never been something Lucas has asked for. Until now.

“Yes.” His voice wobbles and he can’t unlock the tension in his muscles, but he _is_ sure.

Eliott pauses for a moment more, gaze travelling down Lucas’s body and then back up again before he nods, reaching for the condoms and placing them back in the drawer. “Ok.” Eliott moves up onto the bed, crawling until he’s sitting at a kneel at Lucas’s side. He’s not touching but the way his eyes move across Lucas’s body means he might as well be.

Goosebumps rise all across Lucas’s skin. He’s never felt so exposed in his life. He’s not shy. He’s _not_. He doesn’t understand this reaction, but he can’t relax. _Just calm the fuck down, Lucas, you’ll ruin everything._ And then Eliott is bending down and they’re kissing. Soft and sweet he presses his lips to Lucas’s again and again until Lucas melts into it, wrapping his arms up and around Eliott’s neck. Eliott drops his body down on top of Lucas’s, covering him in one soothing, solid blanket of warmth. Eliott kisses him until Lucas’s muscles loosen entirely, kisses him until Lucas can remember nothing more than the touch of Eliott’s hands against his skin, the heat of his body, the slick touch of his tongue. It feels like a million knots being disentangled, carefully pried apart until only silky, smooth lines are left. Eliott is laying slightly straddling Lucas’s thigh, his own pressed against Lucas’s erection and each touch sends pleasure notes singing through Lucas’s veins. There’s no doubt these kisses will eventually lead to _more_ , but for now they kiss only to kiss. Sucking and biting and tasting one another as though they have all the time in the world. All the time in the world to kiss. In fact, they do. Or they would, if it weren’t for the fact that Lucas’s body is beyond his control now. The need for more intensifies until Lucas is writhing beneath Eliott, jerking his hips up against Eliott’s leg in a vain attempt to lessen the throbbing of his cock, where his blood pulses in time with his heartbeat.

When Eliott pulls back he keeps his hands on Lucas’s face, cupping his cheeks and preventing Lucas from chasing his mouth. He smiles a little, thumbs stroking the flushed skin gently. “Lucas, baby, are you listening?” Lucas blinks slowly. He feels as though he’s wading through a dense fog but it’s not obscuring his vision, it’s only tightening his focus. Eliott. _Eliott._ Lucas nods. “We can stop any time, ok? We can make love and I’ll make it good for you. You don’t _have_ to do anything, understand? Not for me.”

“I know.” His voice is a bare whisper, but he knows Eliott needs to hear it. His body is shivering again, but it’s not nerves this time, it’s anticipation. He wants this. He wants this so badly he could cry. In point of fact, he might not be able to stop himself from doing so. It’s not as scary a thought as he expected.

“Alright.” Eliott licks his lips, one hand moving to pet back Lucas’s hair, eyes gliding softly across his face. “Give me a word. A safe word.”

The request has an expulsion of air like laughter being released from Lucas. He’d scoff if he was capable. His voice shakes but it’s bold and brash all the same. “What is this? A BDSM club?” He breathes and actually does manage something like a snort of derision. “I don’t see any whips and chains.”

“Lucas,” Eliott reprimands, the stern quality of his tone immediately silencing any other comments, “a word. A word so you know you can ask me to stop any time. With only that. It doesn’t matter how far gone we are, how good you want me to feel too, we can stop, and I will. If you say that word. And it won’t change or ruin anything. But I need it and so do you. A word. Now.”

Lucas’s mouth has dropped open slightly. Somehow Eliott’s words have send signals of pleasure scurrying through Lucas’s body. He shivers. “Humperdinck.” Eliott’s eyebrow rises slightly in surprise, perhaps with a little humour, and Lucas licks his lips, desperate to feel Eliott’s back on them. Another man’s name, fictional or not, and the least sexy one he can imagine, is bound to get Eliott’s attention no matter how far gone they both are, Lucas reasons.

“Okay,” Eliott sits up, grabbing for the tie. He moves Lucas’s arms gently to rest on the mattress above him, watching Lucas’s face carefully the whole time. Lucas knows he’s checking for signs of reluctance, discomfort, but Lucas gives him none. His previous nerves have leaked from him, soaking down into the mattress while Eliott had kissed him. Because that’s who Lucas is doing this with. Eliott. He’s never felt so safe.

Eliott binds Lucas’s wrists quickly and effectively, looping the tie through one of the wooden panels of their headboard before connecting it to Lucas’s wrists, and Lucas has a moment of consideration about that. When did Eliott have opportunity to learn how to do so? With who? Jealousy curls in his stomach at the thought and he releases it as a frustrated whine, struggling slightly against the silken binding. Eliott’s eyes go back to him where they’d been concentrating on moving a pillow beneath Lucas’s hips.

Lucas can’t imagine the sight he already makes, bound and desperate, hips raised, and legs spread wide, entirely at Eliott’s mercy. Eliott’s lips are curling slightly at the sight and his hands move to push at the back of Lucas’s thighs, spreading him obscenely.

“Patience, baby. Or I’ll make you wait longer.”

 _God_. The cocky, sexy, stupid, Princely, asshole – “Eliott,” Lucas does his best to make his voice stern – demanding, “if you think you can tease me all night just becau–” His words are cut off with a strangled sound. Eliott has bent down and without preamble his mouth is _there_ , tongue hot and wet, probing directly at Lucas’s hole. “Oh god.” It’s a wheeze, a high-pitched inhalation of air as Lucas’s body reacts to the touch. His legs attempt to clamp closed on sheer instinct, a reaction to the surge of sensation, but Eliott holds his thighs open with firm hands.

They’ve never done this before. Lucas has _never_ done this before. It always felt like too intimate an act for the casual sexual partners in his life. He and Eliott had spoken about it in fact. A few weeks back when a discussion of sexual histories had arisen as a result of getting tested. Lucas had mentioned his desire to experience it – Eliott was _not_ as inexperienced as Lucas in this arena – but it had gone nowhere afterwards. Lucas hadn’t pushed and Eliott hadn’t either. And now… now, Eliott’s mouth and tongue are there, licking and spreading Lucas. He’s slow with it, patient, waiting for Lucas to relax and open up to him before he presses his tongue in. Lucas is making noises, words and sounds spilling from him without his consent, just as desperate and needy as Eliott said he was. Eliott responds by probing harder, faster, forcing his tongue deeper. He readjusts his hold on Lucas’s thighs and the cold of his rings press against Lucas’s overheated skin. Lucas wants to reach down and hold Eliott’s head, press his face closer, harder, but he can’t… he can’t because his wrists are bound… because Eliott tied him up… the thought has him releasing something close to a wail, his body jerking in Eliott’s hold and hands turning to hold tightly to the taught length of the tie.

Eliott’s mouth suddenly pulls back and Lucas is torn between panting in relief at the reprieve and begging for it back. “I want you to come for me, ok, Lu? I want you to come so you’re loose and relaxed, alright? Can you do that for me?”

Lucas shakes his head. It would be a denial under any other circumstances, but he trusts that Eliott won’t read it as such. He can’t answer, it’s all too much, but he needs it. He so badly needs it. He just… he doesn’t know if he can… if he can like this. But then Eliott’s mouth is back. He’s sucking at Lucas’s rim now, tongue slipping back into his hole, dragging at sensitive walls of sparking nerve endings. And Lucas can feel it building in his belly, his abs clench and his balls tighten as Eliott’s tongue relentlessly takes him apart. But he needs more. He’s so close. He just needs… he needs…

Eliott fingers are suddenly at the head of his cock and he pinches in time with his tongue probing, pointed and deep inside the heat of Lucas’s body. Lucas sucks in a breath, his muscles locking and then… release. He jerks against the silken restraint around his wrists and cries out, shooting up his chest and belly so hard he feels a bit of it hit his chin. Eliott removes his hand, leaving Lucas’s cock untouched as it continues to twitch through orgasm. Eliott returns to eating him out, mouth hot and eager, only he presses a finger in alongside his tongue now. Lucas makes a sound like choking, so overwhelmed by the feeling he can’t form words. And then Eliott’s pressing in another, the immediate stretch is almost too much, but his tongue is there to soothe the ache, licking around his searching fingers until they find their target and press against his prostate. And then it _is_ too much. It feels as though Lucas hasn’t stopped coming, like Eliott is dragging his orgasm out and refusing the release him from it. Lucas thrashes in his hold, and he couldn’t say whether he’s trying to pull himself away or drive himself down onto Eliott’s relentless fingers. He strains to look down at Eliott’s head buried between his legs.

“Eli – I – I can’t – I –”

Eliott pulls his mouth away, lifting his face to look up at Lucas, but his fingers don’t stop their motions, pressing and stroking at the spot inside Lucas that has his whole body clenching at the onslaught of pleasure. Lucas is still hard, red and spent from his orgasm, but thick against his belly, growing harder still.

“You remember your word.” Eliott speaks. He’s pressing in a third finger and Lucas barely remembers to breathe. “You remember your word?” It’s a question now and Lucas nods frantically. He remembers. But he doesn’t want Eliott to stop. “Good. That’s good, baby.” Lucas sinks into the bed slightly at the sound of the pet name. His eyes slip closed and he concentrates on the soothing sound of Eliott’s voice, a balm to his overheated skin. “Because you’re going to come again for me, alright, sweetheart? Can you do that?” Lucas nods. He doesn’t honestly know, but he trusts Eliott will get him there. And he wants to. He wants to do it for Eliott. He wants to be _good_. The thought fills the back of his throat and Lucas struggles against his bindings, a hiccup of emotion escapes and he opens his eyes, desperate to see Eliott. To know he’s there.

Eliott’s eyes are looking back when Lucas seeks them out. His expression is soft and filled with love. He smiles slightly when Lucas meets his eyes, the gentle quality of his gaze in direct contrast to the way his fingers are taking Lucas apart.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that? Never seen anything like you in my life. My beautiful love.”

Lucas can feel a tear escape, slipping down the side of his face and he lets his head fall back to the bed, eyes slipping shut once more as he focuses on the feel of Eliott’s fingers inside him.

“Never want to be anywhere else,” Eliott continues, fingers stroking and stretching Lucas without pause. “Just here. Making you feel good. Making you come on my tongue,” Lucas whines a little, thrusting his hips down onto Eliott’s fingers, “making you come on my fingers,” they’re starting to feel really good now – the pleasure is raw and almost too much but it’s good too, and it’s building, “making you come on my cock.” Lucas shudders, erection jerking against his stomach at the words. “That’s next, ok, Lu? I’m going to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” Lucas releases a garbled string of words, fingers tightening around the silk material in his hands as he rolls his head back and forth in a senseless attempt to calm himself. “You’re going to come again and again. Just for me. No one else.” His fingers massage Lucas’s prostrate, causing bursts of colour to explode at the corners of Lucas’s vision. “No one else,” Eliott repeats. “It’s what you’ll think next time,” his fingers continue their unyielding attack, “when you’re being a brat, when you’re flirting with anyone and everyone… you’ll think of this.” Lucas head is hazy, and he can just barely concentrate on pulling oxygen into his lungs, but he can hear Eliott. Eliott’s words. “You’re going to remember me taking you apart like this and you’re going to want it again. Because it’s me. You’re it for me, Lucas. And I’m it for you.”

Lucas’s second orgasm is with Eliott’s fingers buried deep inside him. It is everything and nothing like his first. It sweeps over him and blackens his vision. He surrenders to the pleasure. He has no control over it, and it takes hold of his body, making him move in ways foreign to him, making him release sounds he’s never heard before, making his thoughts narrow to one thing only. Eliott. _I love you, I love you, I love you._ Eliott.

Lucas’s third orgasm is with Eliott’s cock so deep inside him, Lucas is near bent in half to accommodate the thrust of his hips. His legs are on Eliott’s shoulders and each drive of Eliott’s cock within him makes him gasp with over-stimulation. There’s sweat dripping from Eliott’s forehead, and his hands have taken hold of Lucas’s wrists, pressing tightly down atop the silk binding. He’s fucking into Lucas more brutally than he ever has, a hard slap of skin against skin echoing through the room alongside the grunt of exertion Eliott makes with every thrust. His pace has grown uneven, smooth, steady strokes of his cock in and out of Lucas’s body given way to choppy, frantic movements. Eliott leans down, desperately catching Lucas’s mouth in a sloppy kiss, one of his hands smoothing Lucas’s sweaty hair back from his forehead.

“Lu – look at me,” Eliott begs. Lucas is. Can’t take his eyes off Eliott. Can barely blink. “You’re gonna – gonna come, k, baby?” His voice is rough and overcome. Lucas can’t do anything more than drop his mouth open and breathe, concentrating on Eliott’s face, on the feel of his cock fucking into Lucas’s body, on the feel of his hand in Lucas’s hair. “Need you to, sweetheart. Need you to now.”

Lucas is gone. His weak release spatters on his belly in between their bodies and he cries out in something of a sob, lids squeezing shut. His body melts boneless into to the mattress as Eliott continues to drive to his own orgasm. It’s too much but Lucas likes it too. He likes the way Eliott is using his body to find his pleasure, likes the way he can give Eliott this. The thought fills Lucas's belly with satisfaction. And then Eliott is coming, collapsing down onto Lucas as he thrusts deeper and deeper into Lucas’s body and releases. Lucas can feel it. He can feel Eliott coming inside him and suddenly, he realizes he’s crying again, tears slipping silently down his cheeks. He presses his face into Eliott’s neck and shakes with it, the overwhelming emotion, as Eliott shudders through the last of his pleasure.

“Oh my god,” Eliott gasps into his shoulder. “Oh my god.” Lucas would return the sentiment but can’t say a word. He sniffles into Eliott’s neck instead.

Eliott raises his face, hands moving to cup Lucas’s face and then he’s kissing him all over, over his forehead and his eyebrows, over his eyelids, his nose, his lips, his cheeks wet with the tears that continue to spill over. He kisses and kisses Lucas until both of their breath returns, heartbeats quick in their chests but steady. When he pulls himself from Lucas’s body, it’s as though he’s scraping raw nerve endings, rubbing against pleasure receptors so overwrought, the signals sent are confused between pleasure and pain. Lucas makes a sound caught between the two.

“I know. I know, sweetheart. I got you.” Eliott moves quickly, kneeling to carefully untie the silk binding, he lowers Lucas’s arms, massaging his shoulders as Lucas continues to sniffle. He can’t stop. It’s as though a door has been opened and with it a flood of emotion freed that refuses to be recaptured. And he’s suddenly so tired – satisfied and relaxed, but weak and unsteady too.

Lucas lets his eyes drift closed as Eliott’s weight moves off the bed. He flickers them open again at the feel of Eliott gently cleaning him with a cloth. At the sight of Lucas looking back, Eliott drops down, granting him a gentle kiss, before he continues his worshipful care of Lucas’s body. Lucas’s eyes drift closed, and he let’s a warm, inky blackness take him.

He’s awoken again by Eliott carefully moving him, propping him up slightly in the curve of Eliott’s shoulder. Eliott has a glass of water and he carefully helps Lucas drink it. It’s room temperature but it soothes Lucas’s throat and chest like a glass of crystal cold water enjoyed under the beating hot sun of summer. He hums with appreciation.

“Thank you.” His voice doesn’t even sound like him, not to his own ears.

Eliott smiles gently. “You’re welcome. Here,” he reaches for something on the side table. “I want you to eat a little too, ok? Then we can go to sleep.”

The last thing Lucas feels like doing is eating but Eliott is feeding him slices of orange with his fingers and Lucas finds his mouth opening for them. The citrus bursts on his tongue and he sits up a little, lips coaxing Eliott’s fingers for more. Eliott grins and obliges, providing peeled slices of orange until there are no more and letting Lucas lick his fingers clean.

Despite the burst of renewed energy that came with eating the fruit, Lucas can feel sleep quickly pulling him back under and he slumps down into the pillows, waiting as Eliott goes to wash his hands before returning. He flicks off the lights and slips under the covers, pulling Lucas to him with strong arms.

“Lucas,” comes Eliott’s soft voice, “I love you. I can’t believe how much I love you.”

Lucas presses his lips to Eliott’s chest. “I love you too.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” he continues, pressing a kiss to the top of Lucas’s head. “You’ve saved my life. My Wesley. Scoundrel and saviour. Love of my life.” It’s stupid and romantic, and any other time Lucas would give him shit for it. For now, all he can do is squeeze more closely into Eliott’s hold and let the words wrap him in warmth and love. It’s what Eliott is. Love. Lucas’s love. The love of his life.

Sleep takes him.

* * * *

Lucas wakes to Eliott pressing kisses all across his face. Lucas can’t help the smile that instantly overtakes his face, and he scrunches his nose slightly as he blinks his eyes open.

“There he is,” Eliott grins delighted. “I was beginning to think I’d sexed you into a coma.”

Lucas snorts. “Not quite.” He pushes away from Eliott to roll onto his back and stretch his arms above his head, arching his back with a satisfied groan as the sore muscles lengthen. “Fucked me into the best sleep of my life is probably more accurate.”

“Yeah?” Eliott asks delighted, moving back into Lucas’s space immediately and pulling him close with hands clasped around his waist. “You had a good sleep?”

“Mmhm,” Lucas confirms, rolling onto his side to face Eliott with hands sandwiched beneath his face. “Quite the fucking you gave me, Princeling. Might be sore for weeks.”

Eliott blushes immediately, eyes darting down to Lucas’s chest with a shy smile. It’s adorable that he could be bashful. The same Eliott who tied Lucas up last night and made him come so many times and with such raw intensity, Lucas wouldn’t be surprised if it changed the very makeup of his DNA, now a pretty, self-conscious pink.

“It was good?” His eyes travel back up to meet Lucas’s as he asks, and there’s a genuine flicker of uncertainty in them. _Is he serious?!_

“Good? You’re kidding right?” Lucas raises both eyebrows in question but Eliott only shrugs, eyes lowering to his hands where he twists one ring restlessly on a finger, and that just won’t do. Lucas moves, pushing Eliott by the shoulders onto his back and rolls on top of him, seating himself happily on Eliott’s stomach. “Eliott,” Lucas begins as Eliott stares up at him, eyes wide, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt that good in my life – _still_ feel that good.” There’s a beginning of a smile on Eliott’s face. “I was really freaked out about today, ya know?” Eliott nods, hands coming to spread across Lucas’s thighs. “Just everything – it’s been a bit much. But… I don’t know… now? Now I just feel… relaxed and like… confident or something. Like I could take on the world.” It feels like an understatement. He feels full of energy. Giddy with excess happiness. But calm too… almost, restored. Like he could run a marathon and survive a family function with the Queen all at once _and_ with a smile. “That’s thanks to you.”

“I’m glad.” Eliott’s eyes shine as he looks up at Lucas, running his hands in a soft glide up and down Lucas’s thighs.

An odd niggle of doubt suddenly weasels its way into Lucas’s stomach. His first instinct is to dismiss and ignore it but… he doesn’t have to do that anymore, does he? “It was…” His eyes move away from Eliott, focusing on the pillow just to the side of Eliott’s head. “It was good for you too, right?” He hates the way his voice wobbles just a little, as though worry has taken hold of his vocal cords and is squeezing tightly.

“Lucas.” Eliott’s voice is gentle and he shifts, pulling Lucas a little more into his lap as he props himself up against the headboard. “Hey,” he tries again, hands running soothingly up and down Lucas’s back until Lucas reluctantly meets his eyes. He smiles. “It was incredible.”

“Yeah?” It feels silly to suddenly be so unsure but, Lucas is used to being very aware of Eliott’s pleasure. He’s used to having more control – _knowing_ it’s good for Eliott. Last night he’d surrendered all control and it’s only now that he’s realizing a big part of that was letting Eliott make the experience solely about him. It’s just… unfamiliar territory.

Eliott leans forward, drawing Lucas into a soft, lingering kiss. He’s smiling again as he pulls back. “Yes, Lucas. You were amazing.” Lucas can feel his cheeks heat at the compliment and dips his face slightly. Eliott doesn’t let him get away with it, a finger under his chin tipping his face back up. “You were. You were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Lucas huffs slightly, moving his hands into Eliott’s hair with a slight tug. “Alright, alright. Enough with the cheese. Don’t need to tell me I’m amazing. Been saying that since I could talk.”

Eliott laughs, squeezing Lucas more tightly towards him. “There you are. Was wondering where that ego had gone.”

“Ohhhhh, well, apparently the same place as your sass, Princeling. Was just dormant for a minute or two.” He leans forward and latches onto Eliott’s jaw with his teeth. Just briefly… just enough to hear a stutter in Eliott’s breath… before he leans back again with a smirk. “My ego needs to keep your sass in check. That’s how it works.”

“Is that right?” Eliott shifts his hips a little and Lucas can feel him swelling within his cotton briefs. Lucas is much more conveniently, still naked. “Pretty sure the one being kept in _check_ last night was you.”

“Only because I let you,” Lucas points out with a quick roll of his eyes.

“Yes,” Eliott agrees immediately, overjoyed smile seemingly permanently painted on his face. “Only because you let me.” His hands slip down until they’re cupping the cheeks of Lucas’s ass. “I’m very grateful.”

“Damn right you are.”

“But Lucas?” His hands tighten slightly, fingers digging into the plump cheeks. “You can ask next time.”

“What?” Lucas wrinkles his forehead slightly in confusion, wondering if he somehow missed the thread of their conversation while distracted by the ways Eliott is currently touching him.

“Next time you… _need_ that. You can ask.” He says it haltingly but looking Lucas directly in the eyes.

“Next time I want you to tie me up and fuck me so hard I almost black out? That what you mean?”

There’s a blush shitting high on Eliott’s cheeks now, but he doesn’t look away. “Yes,” he quirks an eyebrow, “that’s what I mean. You can ask. Instead of you know… _baiting_ me the way you did.”

Lucas smirks, shuffling slightly in Eliott’s lap, intentionally settling the crack of his ass over where Eliott’s anatomy continues to take keen interest beneath him. “But I _like_ baiting you.”

Eliott sighs, shaking his head slightly with a smile. “I know you do.” He doesn’t sound upset by the fact but his eyebrow quirks slightly as he adopts a more serious look. “But I want you to know you can ask too. You can ask me for anything.”

Lucas would like to keep teasing him, but he knows how seriously Eliott means this – how much he wants to know Lucas can trust him with such delicate matters. Lucas leans forward, tipping his head to rest their foreheads together. “I do know.” 

“Good.” Eliott’s breath is a warm whisper against Lucas’s lips.

“Still gonna flirt with Idriss until you want to fuck me so hard, I can’t walk for a week though… just, every once in a while.”

Eliott snorts, tipping his head back slightly with a grin. “Imagine Idriss’ face if he heard this conversation.”

Lucas can’t help but let out his own burst of laughter at that. “God, he’d never speak to us again.”

“Mmm,” Eliott hums. “Something to keep in mind for the next time he comments on your bum.”

“Idriss said something about my bu – _ass_?” Lucas wiggles an eyebrow saucily.

Eliott does not look impressed. “I’m not tying you up again right now, so don’t start.”

“Fine!” Lucas shoves Eliott’s hands off him and rolls until he can escape the bed and stand. He looks back over his shoulder. “Guess you’re just going to have to come shower with me instead. Made me pretty messy last night. Pretty sure that means it’s your responsibility to clean me up.”

Eliott grins, moving to a kneel on the bed. “Is that what it means?”

“Mmhmm.” Lucas begins walking to the bathroom, turning again as he reaches the door. “Other men could never dream of being so lucky.”

Eliott is sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes flicking back up from where they were clearly on Lucas’s ass. He grins. “No,” Eliott agrees. “Other men couldn’t. Only me.”

“Only you,” Lucas agrees, eyes naturally softening as he looks at Eliott. He turns to walk into the bathroom, yelling back, “Luckiest asshole alive you are!” He can hear Eliott’s clear laughter as he follows.

* * * *

* * * *

Lucas is positive his own anxiety driving to the Palace with his mom is five thousand times higher than hers. She’s clearly nervous, but her excitement over soon meeting Eliott seems to be overriding her anxiety. She’d grilled Lucas in the car, asking questions not even he knew the answer to. Honestly it had him thinking he was going to have to play twenty questions with Eliott in bed tonight to catch up, or his mom might start seriously doubting Lucas’s claims of being in a relationship with the Prince. In his defense, how was he supposed to know Eliott’s favourite holiday meal? Or what size of pants he wears! Why would Lucas have paid attention to that?! Now if she wanted to know the size of his – well, anyways, at least he’d been able to answer the top three places Eliott wanted to travel together. That topic had come up when they’d been planning their ski vacation. Eliott’s answer had been Botswana to see the cute meerkats (his words), Peru to see the ancient Inca ruins (“ _ancient works of art,”_ he had said, eyes shining), and Vietnam to eat until they couldn’t move (also his words). While all of the above sounded like incredible vacations, Lucas had a sneaking suspicion Eliott’s choices had more to do with the fact that they’d be able to travel in each country quite cheaply should they wish, in other words, in a manner Lucas could be comfortable with. _God_ , Lucas really did love him.

“You’re sure you’re feeling ok? You’re not too nervous?” Lucas asks his mom as they step out of the car and he reaches into the back for her bag.

She turns to look at him with an eye roll. “If you keep asking me that, I will be. I’m fine, darling.”

“Ok, yeah. Sorry.” He nods tensely, glancing down at his phone. He’d texted Eliott to say they’d arrived. He’ll be here any minute. “I just want everything to –”

The door to the garage swings open and Eliott walks in, halting Lucas’s words. He’s smiling, bright and happy, with just the slightest nervous energy showing in the way he’s fiddling with one of his rings.

“Hello,” Eliott says as he approaches, glancing to where Lucas has inconveniently frozen in place. He quickly jumps to attention.

“Sorry, hey, um,” he turns to where his mom has come to stand next to him, smiling warmly back at Eliott, “mom this is Eliott. Eliott this is my mom.”

“Mrs. Lallemant, welcome to our home,” Eliott greets, stepping forward with a hand extended. The formality of it makes Lucas immediately smile.

“Oh please,” she laughs softly, taking his hand and quickly clasping it between both of her own, “I will only call you Eliott, if you agree to call me Alice.”

“Alice,” Eliott nods, cheeks flushing a beautiful pink, pleased little smile curling at the corners of his mouth, “ok. I can do that. Um,” he glances at Lucas quickly, “may I show you around? If we leave it up to Lucas, he’ll just take you to the gym.”

“Excuse me,” Lucas immediately scoffs, “ _my_ gym is a worthy sight to see, thank you very much. Since we added all the equipment for the kids it’s a right masterpiece, if I do say so myself.”

“Kids?” His mom inquires, turning to Lucas with an eyebrow raised. He knows that look and laughs.

“Kids from the apprenticeship program, mom. We’re trying to make it a little more well rounded than just work experience. So, they’ll be able to access a physical training program with Idriss, art therapy with Eliott and Daphne…”

“And pet therapy,” Eliott adds with a hopeful lilt to his voice, eyes seeking out Lucas. Eliott has been bound and determined that they should work with local rescues and maybe adopt a few of their own critters to establish regular ‘pet therapy’ days. “ _Animals are incredibly healing, Lucas_ ,” Eliott had attemped to justify, pout doing its very effective best. Lucas had argued that Brian was more than enough ‘pet’ for them both and they shouldn’t be splitting their focus and putting energy in too many directions too early on. All the same, he knew it was a loosing battle. It was only a matter of time before Eliott got his way. Lucas just needed to prepare himself for the image of Eliott surrounded by fluffy animals before that happened… if preparation for such a sight was even possible.

Lucas rolls his eyes and with a sigh adds, “Ok, and _maybe_ pet therapy. In the _future_.”

“Well,” his mom hums, “I’ll have to keep in mind what you mean then… next time you refer to kids. I thought there was something you needed to tell me. You _were_ complaining of stomach pain this morning.” She says it with a giggle, clear twinkle in her eyes. Eliott laughs immediately.

“Oh my god,” Lucas groans. “Stop! You’ll only encourage him.” He gestures towards where Eliott continues to giggle, absolutely delighted. “He’s already having dreams of me pregnant.”

“I–” Eliott has flushed a bright red, stuttering over his words as he looks quickly to Lucas’s mom, “it was only because – and just that once – I don’t actually–”

“Can you imagine?” His mom interrupts, resting a hand on Eliott’s forearm where he’d begun to flap it about in front of him. She leans towards him conspiratorially. “He’d be absolutely insufferable. The _most_ high maintenance! I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.” She and Eliott giggle together delightedly, looking back at Lucas together.

“I beg to differ.” Lucas does his best to sound annoyed but the sight of them laughing together is filling his chest with a warmth that makes any emotion less than joyous seem next to impossible. “I am _not_ high maintenance.”

“Oh sweetheart,” his mom reaches forward for his hand, pulling him closer, “you like to be babied. Don’t deny it. Remember that time you insisted you were _dying_ and needed to stay home from school? I’ve never heard such wailing. You had me running back and forth all day caring for you. You were so dramatic I nearly took you to the emergency room. I was _genuinely_ worried!” Lucas can’t help the heat he feels building in his face at the memory.

“What was wrong with him?” Eliott asks.

“Mom–” Lucas attempts to interrupt but it’s of no use, she’s already answering.

“Oh, he’d had his first wet dream, you see.” Her laughter is followed by Eliott’s in short order.

“Mom!”

“And the poor boy thought his penis had malfunctioned and this was clearly a sign of him being deathly ill!”

“Mom!!!”

“Don’t be shy, darling. It was adorable,” she laughs, reaching forward to pinch his certainly flushed cheek. Eliott is laughing to the point of tears building in his eyes and he raises a hand to his mouth in a failed attempt to control himself. His mom continues – because of course she does, “I didn’t learn what the real problem was until later that day, when I insisted on changing the sheets.” Lucas no longer attempts to stop her in the retelling. He can’t find the will to do so. Not when she looks so alive and happy with the memory. What he can do however is groan in abject pain at having to not only relive such a memory, but relive it with his _mom_ providing the narration. “He’d been quite sweaty all day, wouldn’t you know, and I insisted on changing the sheets and well, _then_ I understood.”

“Oh my goodness,” Eliott manages through laughter, wiping at the tears leaking from his eyes.

“He was still quite young and we weren’t quite prepared for puberty. Needless to say, we hadn’t gotten to the birds and bees,” she laughs delightedly, a musical sound, holding tight to Eliott’s arms as she shares the humiliating story.

“And did you then?” Eliott asks, as he regains his breath. “Explain the birds and the bees, I mean?” He wiggles an eyebrow in Lucas’s direction, and Lucas rewards him with an eye roll.

“Of course!” His mom nods. “The topic hadn’t been introduced in school yet and someone needed to convince him he wasn’t dying!” She and Eliott grin at one another. “His father wasn’t–” Her voice suddenly catches, her expression dropping, and with it, Lucas’s stomach. She looks confused for a moment and Lucas’s own voice feels trapped in his throat. “Well, his father was – he wasn’t…” she stutters, a waver to her tone, her eyes falling to the floor.

“Well, Lucas is lucky he had you,” Eliott interrupts with a kind smile. At the sound of his voice, Lucas feels a wave of relief wash over him. He’s not alone this time. Eliott is here too. “I had to have that talk with my sister. She had taken it upon herself to be far more educated on such topics,” Eliott laughs a little and Lucas’s mom perks up at the sight, smiling now too. Eliott moves slightly to Lucas’s side, pressing a steady hand to his back and rubbing in a comforting circle. “My mother eventually had the chat with me, but it was _well_ past due at that point.” Lucas’s mom giggles a little and Lucas reaches to touch Eliott, wrapping an arm around his back and squeezing tightly to the material of his sweater. _Thank you, thank you._ “Well,” Eliott turns to smile down at Lucas gently, “shall we then?”

Lucas nods, looking from Eliott back to his mom. “Eliott had a special room done up for you. So you have your own bedroom when you visit.”

“Oh goodness,” she flaps her hand, “you didn’t need to go to any trouble for me.”

“No, I wanted to,” Eliott insists, looking happy and confident. “It was my pleasure truly.”

With one last warm touch of his hand against Lucas’s back, Eliott releases him and steps forward to offer Lucas’s mom his arm with an exaggerated bow. She giggles and accepts with a warm smile.

“Escorted through the Palace by the Prince,” she comments happily. “I certainly am being spoiled.”

“Well,” Eliott bends his head towards her as he leads them to the door, his voice an exaggerated whisper so as to allow Lucas, following closely behind, a clearly opportunity to hear, “that son of yours won’t let me spoil him, so I have to make up for it with you.”

“I accept.”

Eliott reaches for the door, pulling it open and gesturing for her to go first. “After you.”

She smiles, moving her hand from his arm to pat his cheek softly. “Thank you, darling.” She walks ahead.

Eliott turns to smile at Lucas, his face sheer joy, before he quickly moves to catch up with her. Lucas lets himself smile. The happiness filling his chest is something that’s becoming familiar. It panics him less than it used to. He lets it seep into his bones, inhaling a shaky breath and follows.

 _I love you_.

* * * *

When they round the corner to his mom’s room, the Queen and Manon are approaching from the other end of the hall. Lucas will likely never get over the immediate anxiety that comes with such a sight, but Manon’s presence somewhat softens to overall picture. Eliott has come to a stop with Lucas’s mom at his side, and Lucas moves forward to bracket her on the other.

“Mrs. Lallemant,” the Queen greets with a warm smile, “welcome.”

“Hello,” Lucas’s mom stutters before she seems to catch herself and she rushes to add, “Your Royal Highness, I mean, oh,” she curtsies awkwardly, “sorry.”

“Please do not worry over formalities,” the Queen laughs lightly. Lucas finds himself staring. He knows she can be like this of course. She is the Queen after all. She knows how to behave socially and make people feel welcome. It’s just… beyond strange to reconcile his own understanding of the Queen with this new reality happening before his eyes. “Please let me introduce my daughter. This is–”

“Manon,” the Princess in question immediately sticks out her hand, giving no opportunity for more formal greetings. “It’s so wonderful to meet you,” Manon continues. “We’ve so been looking forward to your visit.”

“Oh well, thank you,” Lucas’s mom smiles, looking happy, if slightly overwhelmed as she shakes Manon’s hand, “that is very kind.”

“We’ll have a chance to chat and get to know one another later, I’m sure,” Manon continues, looking relaxed and at ease.

“Yes, I’d like that,” Lucas’s mom manages in reply. Her voice is clear but the way her shoulders collapse gives away her general anxiety. Manon seems to notice and smiles once more before moving to depart with a kind smile.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” She pauses slightly at Lucas’s side, squeezing his forearm. Lucas meets her eyes with a smile and nod, and she continues on her way.

“Let’s show you to your room,” Eliott offers, retaking Lucas’s mom’s arm. She looks back to him and Lucas is sure the grateful expression on her face likely mirrors his own. He feels oddly out of his depth. He wants to help, he wants to make his mom feel comfortable and at ease, but it feels as though his own anxiety has overtaken him.

They all follow Eliott like ducklings in a line, making their way through a door at the end of the hall and into an open, sunlit bedroom. It’s not a room Lucas has ever seen before – though there’s no surprise in that. The Palace seems to have an endless expanse of undiscovered rooms. This room is not as large as many of the others. There’s a sizable bed, covered in a plush looking duvet, an attached bathroom, and a cozy reading nook. It’s been decorated simply and tastefully, in bright, airy colours. It looks nothing like the other more garishly decorated rooms of the Palace. It’s perfect.

Lucas’s mom has moved forward into the room, and Lucas turns to smile at Eliott. As if sensing Lucas’s eyes on him, Eliott returns his gaze, eyes warm and happy. _You did good_ , Lucas tries to communicate. Eliott’s smile widens.

“Well, we’ll leave you to get settled,” the Queen suddenly speaks into the silence that has fallen as they all appreciate the room. “We all very much look forward to having you here over the holidays. I hope you will make yourself most welcome in our home.”

“No.” Lucas’s mother speaks, sharp and anxious. Lucas’s eyes go to her immediately as she turns, wringing her hands in front of her, eyes darting about the room. “No. I’m sorry. I can’t–”

“Mom…” Lucas begins, heart lurching up into his throat at the sight of her distress. She turns to Lucas with frantic eyes.

“He’ll find me here.” It’s as though the words have stopped Lucas’s heart. “He knows. He’s been here. I can’t stay. He’ll know.” Her hand goes to Lucas’s shoulder, fingers digging into the muscle. “He’ll hurt us both.”

Lucas should have foreseen this. The Palace is not a blank slate for his mom. She’s been here many times before. Never alone. Always with his father. That she would suddenly associate this place with that waste-of-a-human-being, makes a terrible amount of sense. He wants to tell her they’re protected. He wants to assure her that his father will never hurt them again. He wants to apologize for leaving her alone with him for years – as powerless as he’d been as a child, as little opportunity as he had to change things – he still wants to apologize. He’s frozen in place instead. Staring into his mom’s troubled eyes, his mind silent, his thoughts cold and empty.

“We – we will – I mean –” Eliott’s voice is suddenly stuttering from Lucas’s side, sounding robbed of its previous confidence.

“Alexandre Anjou’s presence is not permitted on Palace grounds. He will not find you here.” The Queen’s voice. Lucas’s mom’s eyes swing to her, surprised as though she’d forgotten her presence entirely. Lucas feels much the same, his own gaze following suit. She stands slightly to their side, looking at Lucas’s mom only, her expression serious but not unkind. Now holding their attention, she continues. “He has made himself quite unwelcome in our circles, and I assure you, he will not be allowed in our home.” Lucas wants to laugh. He wants to laugh in her face for such a statement. She was the one who invited him in, she was the reason… but, Lucas can’t… he can’t laugh. He can’t even be angry. Not with fear gripping him. She can’t say anything. She can’t say what happened – not to his mom. It will ruin everything if his mom finds out. If she knows what happened to Lucas. That his father hurt him. _Again_. He doesn’t realize he’s reached for Eliott until he feels Eliott’s hand take hold of his own, his grip strong and so enormously and immediately comforting Lucas could cry. He squeezes, holding onto to Eliott like a lifeline. It doesn’t feel like an overstated metaphor.

“But,” Lucas’s mom begins, voice thin, as fragile as a fine layer of tissue, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s hardly a situation worth expounding upon.” The Queen’s voice is devoid of emotion as she speaks. She might as well be introducing the subject of weather. _The air is more brisk today than yesterday._ But it’s her total lack of feeling that seems to be casting an aura of calm over the scene. “It seems there were some, shall we say, less-than-honest business dealings which did not go over well with his clients.” Business dealings? Lucas’s feels his shoulders drop from their previously tense position, more out of confusion than relief. “Fraud is a very dirty word in our world. So many things are allowed, so many behaviours – but not that. Not theft of possession. Money it would see is always the dividing line.” Her eyes flick to Lucas’s only for a split second, but it’s enough for him to understand. It’s not an apology. They understand one another too well for that. But it’s reparation. The most she can offer, and all that Lucas would accept. “And so, you see,” she continues, a polite smile directed at Lucas’s mom, “I can’t have that sort of person in our home.” The irony of her words still sits rich between them, saturated by toxic memory… and yet, there’s comfort in them too. She’s the same as she’s always been, the same person Lucas hated for most of his life, the same person who walked away from him in his moments of most need, the same person he’d chosen not to forgive, but to tolerate as another facet of who Eliott is, a part of Eliott’s life Lucas could live with if only because he loved Eliott, and she’s offering this – not with artificial kindness, but in a matter-of-fact emotionless manner that makes it palatable, that makes it possible to accept without a thank you, without gratitude or debt.

“Will he – will he go to jail?” Lucas’s mom’s voice gains slight strength and she stands slightly taller. Lucas pulls Eliott closer by their clasped hands, and Eliott’s free hand moves to stroke Lucas’s forearm.

“Oh, we know better.” The Queen dismisses with a wave of her hand, slight humour in her expression. “Men like that never see the inside of a jail cell. Being ostracized by those he holds in highest regard is a far more fitting punishment, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes,” there’s a smile growing on Lucas’s mom’s face, “reputation was always most important to Alexandre.”

“Then let us rid him of it, no?” The two of them smile at one another and Lucas feels himself turning to look at Eliott. Lucas can’t be sure what it is he’s looking for but Eliott’s eyes are already on him, his expression careful and attentive. “Now then,” the Queen speaks again, and Lucas finds his eyes going back to her. She’s reaching for Lucas’s mom’s hand and holds it gently between her own. “Let’s say you and I enjoy tea this afternoon. For now, I’ll allow you time to get settled in your room. Please do not hesitate should you need anything.”

“Thank you,” his mom nods, looking far happier and relaxed than she had been moments prior.

The Queen releases her with one last nod. Her eyes land on Eliott, resting there for a moment as the two look at one another, before she turns and leaves. Lucas exhales heavily, watching as his mom moves further into the room, looking about her curiously, former worries seemingly forgotten. He suddenly realizes he’s squeezing Eliott’s hand in a near death grip – make that a _sweaty_ death grip – and he releases quickly, moving his hand to tug nervously as his shirt instead. Lucas turns his head to Eliott with an embarrassed smile.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

Eliott shakes his head, returning a smile and reaching to pull Lucas close with an arm around his shoulders. He presses a soft kiss to the side of Lucas’s forehead, lips moving down until they reach his ear.

“You ok?”

Lucas nods, reaching a hand to squeeze at Eliott’s side before they both turn their attention back to Lucas’s mom. She’s walking the length of the shelves on the far wall, beneath the windows. She stops as she reaches something Lucas can’t quite see beyond her.

“A record player?” She asks, turning to look back at them. Lucas releases Eliott to move slightly to the side and better see, eyebrows rising in surprise at the sight. It’s not Eliott’s record player. It looks new.

“Yes,” Eliott confirms, moving towards her. “I put a selection of records here for you.” He motions to where there are indeed a number of records stacked on the shelf beneath. “But I think this might be your favourite.” He pulls out… _wait_ … Lucas knows that record.

Eliott hands it to Lucas’s mom, turning back to Lucas with a grin. It’s the Led Zeppelin IV record he’d given Lucas. The record Lucas had put on proud display on the shelf of their bedroom.

“ _Thief_ ,” Lucas mouths as Eliott’s grin expands.

“Oh my goodness,” Lucas’s mom turns the vinyl over in her hands excitedly. “Stairway to Heaven is my favourite song!”

“Lucas quite likes it too. Here.” Eliott takes the vinyl from her, turning to set it on the record player. Lucas watches the two of them fondly as they crowd around the record player, his mom paying him no attention, avidly watching Eliott as he sets the record to play.

It’s not _Stairway to Heaven_ that starts playing however, it’s the first few notes of _Rock and Roll_ , loud and upbeat. All three of them jump at the sound.

_It's been a long time since I rock and rolled_

“Oh, I’m sorry! I practiced getting it to the right spot but…” Eliott quickly moves to reset the tone arm of the record player, but Lucas’s mom’s hand on his arm stops him.

“No, no, leave it.” She grins and turns to look at Lucas, wiggling her shoulders a little to the beat. “Far more suiting the mood, isn’t it?”

 _It's been a long time been a long time_ _  
Been a long lonely lonely lonely lonely lonely time_

“Careful, mum.” Lucas grins. “Don’t want Eliott getting jealous of your moves.”

“Why would I be jealous when I have so many moves of my own?” Eliott cocks an eyebrow at Lucas, pleasure so clearly written over his entire face, it’s more than a little infectious, seeping into Lucas’s blood with a comforting warmth.

“Moves inspired by _dubstep_. Let’s get that out in the open. _EDM_ , mom,” Lucas looks to his mom with what he feels is an appropriately horrified expression, “electronic dance music. That is his choice of musical poison.”

“Lucas,” his mom reaches forward to pinch him lightly on the shoulder, “don’t make fun! I taught you better than that.”

“But mum –” He tries, readying his best whine, but his words are overridden by her tutting in mocked disappointment.

“Music is only sound,” she lectures.

“ _Yeah, I’ll say_ ,” he manages to mumble beneath his breath, feeling somewhat vindicated just for having said it.

“And,” she raises her voice slightly over his own, eyebrows lifted in something like warning though her expression remains far too gentle for it to have much effect, “dismissing something someone enjoys, merely because it is a different, is just silly. If we all had the same opinion, life would be pretty boring.” She wraps an arm around Eliott’s back, rubbing his bicep in comfort, though Eliott doesn’t look upset at all. In fact, he looks ecstatic, trying desperately to control the breadth of his smile and failing on all fronts.

“Well, life with Lucas is never boring,” Eliott contributes, moving an arm to return Lucas’s mom’s half hug. “Despite his teasing of my _excellent_ taste in music,” there’s definitely a smug quality to the twinkle in his eyes when he glances quickly at Lucas, “I don’t think I could ever, _ever_ be bored with him.”

“Yes, that I believe. A handful he is but boring he is not.” Lucas’s mom laughs lightly, turning slightly towards Eliott and moving to take one of his hands into her own. “Thank you for this, sweetheart.” She nods to where the song is now tapering down. “It was very thoughtful of you. I’m sure I’ll love using it every time I visit.” _Every time._ The words so immediately choke Lucas with emotion he’s only thankful Eliott and his mum are too busy looking at one another to notice.

“You’re welcome, Mrs – um, Alice.” Eliott’s smile has softened, looking down at her with quiet affection. “It really is my pleasure. I’m happy to have you here.” He looks to Lucas. “We both are.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucas clears his throat, blinking rapidly, “enough with the gooey stuff. We’re gonna go and let you get settled in, ok, mom?”

“Oh darling,” his mum releases Eliott only to step forward to brush Lucas’s hair back from his face before pressing a smacking kiss to his cheek, “there can never be enough of the gooey stuff. I love you.”

“Yeah, uh,” Lucas tamps down his sudden urge to cry – it’s ridiculous how little a handle he has on his emotions these days, “l love you too.”

“You too Eliott, darling,” she turns to look back at him.

“Oh,” Eliott’s eyebrows rise in slightly surprise and he flushes a beautiful pink immediately, “well, thank you. And me too.”

“Ok,” she turns back to Lucas, “now you can go complain about how sappy and emotional I am.” She releases him with a pat on the cheek that is just this side of being a slap. It makes Lucas laugh.

“Sappy? Nah. You noticed I’m in love with the cheesiest human alive, didn’t you? I’m used to it.”

Eliott doesn’t even look remotely offended when Lucas glances at him, sporting a happy, affectionate smile as he looks between them both.

“I did notice.” His mom says it with far more gravity than Lucas had even meant it, staring at him with soft and happy eyes.

“We’ll see you for afternoon tea then, Alice,” Eliott offers, rubbing her shoulder as he moves to Lucas’s side.

“Absolutely,” she agrees easily. “I think I’ll take a nap. Then I’ll be fresh as a buttercup.”

Eliott and Lucas move to the door of the bedroom, Eliott leading the way. Lucas stops on the cusp of exiting, looking back to where his mom stands, watching them.

“I’m really glad you’re here, mom.”

“Me too, darling.” She looks no less fragile than he’s used to seeing her – as though a stiff breeze could blow her away, a harsh word and she’ll shatter. But she’s here. She’s safe and she’s here. And he’s so glad.

Lucas shuts the door softly behind him, turning to see Eliott waiting just a few steps away. Lucas has little control of himself as he moves to immediately press Eliott up against the wall, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s neck to pull him down and into a kiss he meant to be hard and demanding, but turns out far more gentle and tender. The moment they separate, Lucas buries his face in Eliott’s neck, satisfied when Eliott responds by pulling him closer to complete the hug Lucas needed.

“You ok?” Eliott whispers, pressing a kiss to the shell of Lucas’s ear.

“You asked that already,” Lucas chuckles a little, refusing to release either of them from the hug. Eliott thankfully follows his lead and doesn’t loosen his hold either.

“Mmhmm,” Eliott agrees. “A lot happened in the last ten minutes. So… you ok?”

Lucas presses a kiss to Eliott’s neck before pulling back enough to rest their foreheads together, arms still looped tightly around Eliott’s neck. “I’m ok,” he nods. “Thank you. Not for – not just for asking. Thank you for – like, all of that. Everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Eliott insists softly, “but you’re welcome. And hey,” he leans back, meeting Lucas’s eyes, “that stuff with, um – well, your dad. What my mom said. Are you – I mean, was that–”

Lucas chuckles a little, interrupting Eliott’s stuttering, “Unclench, Princeling. It’s ok. And yeah.” He sighs a little, sliding his hands down to Eliott’s chest. “Like – it’ll never be enough. Nothing will ever be enough for what he did to my mom – to me,” Eliott nods, his hand moving up to stroke Lucas’s hair, “but I guess as shit goes, him being humiliated is the best possible punishment.”

“We can pursue charges. You know that, right? I don’t care if we’d get caught in the negative press. That doesn’t matter to me. Not if it’s what you want.” Eliott says it with total conviction. And Lucas _does_ know. He’ll never doubt the lengths Eliott would go to for him again.

“I know.” Lucas drops his eyes to Eliott’s chest as he collects his thoughts before looking back up. “But it’s not what I want. Maybe that’s not – right, or whatever. But I just want to close the door. I want to be done with him. Finally. Forever. He’s not my father. He’s not a part of my life. Not in any way – not anymore.”

“Yeah,” Eliott’s hand moves in Lucas’s hair, running through the strands, “I understand. I only want what you want.”

“Did you know?” Lucas asks, no accusation in his tone. “About the stuff with his business?”

Eliott shakes his head. “No. I knew we’d banned him from stepping foot on Palace grounds, of course.” Lucas nods. He’d been aware of that as well. Eliott had mentioned it soon after they’d reunited. “I didn’t know the details of the rest.”

“Alright,” Lucas exhales and it feels like truly letting go, like expelling every remaining remnant of his father’s memory left. “Let’s go train.”

“What?” Eliott laughs in surprise. “Train?”

“You heard me. I need to do something with all this pent up–” He flaps a hand, unable to find the appropriate words. “We either train or we – well,” Lucas quirks a suggestive eyebrow, “I went with the family-friendly option. Just trying to preserve your dignity is all.”

“My dignity?” Eliott looks one word from full-bodied laughter.

“Well yeah,” Lucas releases him, stepping back slightly to give him a nice, slow up-and-down perusal. “You’re in posh, entertaining mode. Can’t have you showing up to tea with our mother’s looking like you’ve just fucked.”

“It’s just me you’re worried about?” Eliott cocks his hip slightly, returning Lucas’s full body appraisal. “You’d show up looking just as undone.” _Undone._ Lucas really had to go and fall for the most adorable posh boy.

“Sure,” Lucas agrees with a shrug. “But it’s all part of my charm. People expect me to look just fucked. You on the other hand…”

“But the only person you’re doing that with is me.” Yeah that smug twinkle in Eliott’s eye has definitely only grown brighter. “So, if you look that way…”

This conversation has gone down a delightfully off-beaten path. “What are you saying, Princeling? You want to go back to our room and put this theory to the test?”

“No,” Eliott giggles, a sweet, youthful sound. “I want to train.”

“Well then stop distracting me with all this dirty talk. Now getting my mouth on you is all I can think about.” An adorable posh boy _tease_. That’s what he is.

“That wasn’t dirty talk,” Eliott dismisses with a mischievous smile. “If that’s what I was going for I would have–” Lucas cuts him off with a firm hand to his mouth.

“Don’t.” He can feel Eliott’s lips pulling up in a smile beneath his hand. “ _God_.” Lucas drops his hand, stepping back with a shake of his head. “Asshole. I can’t believe you. We really are made for one another, hunh?”

Eliott’s smile lights up his entire face. “We are,” he agrees. “Now come on.” He turns to walk down the hall, throwing a flirty look over his shoulder as he goes. “I never get to train with you. I’ve got all kinds of _moves_ to show off.”

Yeah. Definitely made for one another.

* * * *

If Lucas is honest, by the end of the day all he wants to do is curl up in bed with Eliott and sleep. No more thinking, no more socializing. It’s not that it’s been a bad day. Not at all. His mom had settled in well, all things considered. Afternoon tea and later, dinner had gone very smoothly as well. And his mom likely would have been happy to retire to her room early – Lucas knows it’s been just as emotionally draining a day for her as it has for him – but there’s one more thing to do, one more thing he’s planned, and despite his exhaustion, he wants to do it. For his mom.

“Ta da!” He crows, opening his arms wide as he presents the Shelby.

“Oh, she’s beautiful,” his mom praises, so very clearly playing along with Lucas’s excitement. For obvious ‘asshole husband’ reasons, she was never hugely into cars. But the car itself is not the point.

“Well,” Lucas opens the passenger door for her, “hop in then. We’re taking her for a spin.”

Her face transforms with surprise. “We are?”

“Been a long time since we had a late night on dark, open roads, listening to only the best jams, hasn’t it? Too long.” He’d concentrated solely on the Shelby in the last month, ensuring she’d be running for this very moment. The soft-top he’d ordered has only just arrived last week. And while she wasn’t necessarily the best option for a cold winter’s night, Lucas was determined to make it work. “So, if you’re up for it…” He gestures again to the car but leaves the comment somewhat open-ended, allowing his mom the opportunity to turn him down.

“It has been too long,” she agrees. “Alright,” she moves to the car, swinging herself into the passenger seat, “let’s do it!”

“That’s the spirit!” He winks as she laughs delightedly.

As it’s not actually too late in the evening, it’s a while before he manages to find them some more deserted roads to drive, blasting rock music as they go. The experience is the same and yet entirely different from his memories of doing so as a child. There’s the same wonderful levity and bonding over music there always had been but this time, it’s not an escape. Neither of them need it to be. There’s nothing Lucas wants to escape from, nothing his mom _needs_ to escape from. They’re doing it solely for the pleasure of the drive, the music, and one another.

He finds a spot to park on their way back home. It affords them a beautiful nighttime view of Paris, lights twinkling in the darkness. Lucas reaches for the music, turning it down to a softer level as they sit back and take in the sight of the city in front of them.

“Not a bad city, eh?” Lucas exhales, tipping his head back against his headrest and turning towards his mom.

“It’s been very good to us,” she smiles as she returns his gaze.

“Bad too.”

“No,” his mom disagrees gently. “Not the city. The people perhaps. Some of them. But we know far more great people than we do bad.”

How she’s maintained that sort of positive outlook over the years, Lucas doesn’t know. There have been times in the past it has felt like his cynicism was going to overwhelm all other ways of understanding the world. In those moments he’s thought of his mom, a woman who has been through more than anyone should ever have to survive, who has not only had to battle the ill will of others, but her own mind, and yet she can say things like that, _believe_ things like that – that the good they’ve known will always outweigh the bad.

“We do know some pretty great people,” he agrees.

“He’s wonderful. Truly wonderful.” She doesn’t clarify who or what she’s talking about. Lucas doesn’t need her to of course.

“He is, yeah.”

“I’m glad for you.” She reaches forward to brush a hand across his cheek, before dropping it back to her lap. “You deserve your happiness.”

Lucas should accept her blessing of his and Eliott’s relationship as it has been offered. But he can’t help the doubt pressing at the back of his mind, memories and words that refuse to be silenced.

“Thought we were supposed to protect ourselves first?” Admittedly it feels a bit like throwing his mom’s words back in her face. It’s not how he means it though, nor how he says it. There’s an obvious vulnerability to his voice that he doesn’t try to mask. And he’s nervous. Nervous in a way he didn’t expect. It’s only then he realizes where his fear is rooted. That parasitic idea latched to his brain; that by allowing himself happiness with Eliott, he will have somehow disappointed his mom, not respected the lessons she taught him.

She smiles, sadness at the corner of her eyes but understanding too. “Darling, sometimes letting someone in _is_ how we protect ourselves. It’s takes strength to do that. Courage.” The words immediately soothe the ache he hadn’t been aware was throbbing inside him. “And he loves you, Lucas. He’ll protect you. You’ll protect one another. It’s everything I could have ever hoped for you.”

“I wish…” His voice is clogged with emotion, and a tear he can’t contain finds its way to his cheek. “I wish you could have that too.”

“I do.” She smiles, looking far more composed than Lucas himself feels. “I have you. And now Eliott. My family.” She reaches to catch a tear on his cheek. “Now what do you say we get you back to that wonderful boy of yours? I’m sure he is feeling quite left out of our evening.”

“Nah,” Lucas denies, wiping at his face and remembering his earlier conversation with Eliott. “I invited him along, but he insisted tonight was just for you and me.”

“Well he is a darling, isn’t he?” There’s far more behind her words than is spoken. Her genuine happiness for Lucas shines through her eyes. “Next time then.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees, returning her look, hoping his eyes reflect the same happiness. “Next time.”

* * * *

* * * *

Lucas trips slightly over his own feet as he’s led blindly down the hall, Eliott tight to his back, hands pressed over Lucas’s eyes.

“Princeling,” Lucas begins, humour dripping from his tone, “this would be a lot easier if you just let me _look_ where I was going.”

“No that ruins the surprise!” Eliott’s voice is filled with childish glee. It makes it impossible to disagree. It had been even worse when faced with the impish look spread across Eliott’s face. He’d pulled Lucas away from the others immediately following their breakfast and exchange of presents, smile wide and excitement palpable. Lucas and Eliott had agreed not to exchange gifts in front of the others, so Lucas wasn’t entirely unaware of what was going on here. Why Eliott had insisted Lucas not see where they are going, however, _that_ Lucas did not understand. Especially because this particular route was more than a little familiar at this point.

“Ok but you do realize I know we’re going to the library, don’t you?”

“Lucas!” Eliott cries out, hands dropping from Lucas’s face as he comes to a stop.

Lucas laughs, opening his eyes and turning around to face him. He should maybe feel a little bad for ruining that part of Eliott’s surprise but not even the prominent pout on Eliott’s face can dim the smile on Lucas’s. “You really think I don’t have this route burned into memory at this point?”

Eliott crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking affronted and just… truly adorable. “Well you could have pretended not to know.”

“Sorry, babe, but,” Lucas steps closer with a wiggle of his eyebrow, tilting his face up to Eliott’s and feeling only a little smug about the way Eliott’s arms immediately drop to his sides and his mouth parts, “I don’t fake anything with you.”

Eliott’s eyes have fallen to his lips and it’s a moment more before he manages to shake himself out of the thrall. “That wasn’t fair.”

Lucas pops one shoulder in a semi-shrug. “All’s fair in love and war, Princeling.” He turns and begins leading the way towards the library, the door just slightly down the hall. “You should know that, being a monarch and all.”

“Why?” Eliott chuckles, jogging to catch up. “You see a lot of monarchs waging war these days, do you?”

“You really want to get into an argument about historical precedent with me? Or you wanna show me what you’ve got planned in there?” Lucas asks coming to a stop in front of the door to the library. In truth, he _is_ buzzing – just a _little_ and in a totally cool and composed way. It’s been a lot of years since he’s looked forward to the Christmas holidays – never mind been excited over a surprise planned especially for him. He and Alexia always exchanged small gifts through the years, but everything about this feels different. Because it’s Eliott.

“Ok but,” Eliott adopts an expression Lucas is pretty sure is meant to be stern – _adorable_ , “you have to let me cover your eyes.”

“ _Eliott_ ,” Lucas whines, “why? I know where we’re going!” Eliott doesn’t respond, standing there with one eyebrow raised, a no-nonsense look on his face. It shouldn’t be so hot. It is. Stupid, stern, hot Prince boyfriend. “Fine,” Lucas acquiesces, entirely unable to hide the way he’s begun smiling. It’s just… there’s a surprise. A surprise Eliott has planned. Just for Lucas. In the library. Their place.

“Ok, hold on,” Eliott moves behind him once more, one hand covering Lucas’s eyes while the other fumbles with the door until he’s able to successfully open it. He jostles Lucas forward. “Just forward a little bit.”

“You know, Princeling,” Lucas begins as he walks into what he thinks is the center of the library, and he’s proud of the way his smirk is crystal clear just through his tone of voice, “if you wanted to fuck in the library again, you didn’t need to pull out all the stops. I’m _up_ for it.”

“Lucas!” In his scandalized outrage, Eliott’s hand moves down to cover Lucas’s mouth, unwittingly uncovering Lucas’s eyes to the sight of… oh. _Whoops_. Emily. Standing at the center table with a thoroughly disgusted look on her face.

“You guys had sex in here? God. _Ew_. You have heard of beds, haven’t you?”

“He’s just joking,” Eliott tries, not sounding the least bit convincing. His hand drops from Lucas’s mouth.

“I really wasn’t,” Lucas smirks, looking between the two of them. “And for the record,” he looks back to Emily, “we’re a fan of beds too.”

“Ugh.” She curls her lip in disgust. “I really didn’t need to know that. It’s like being told your parents have sex.”

Lucas’s heart stutters slightly at the words. Eliott hasn’t yet revealed why she’s here… what the surprise is… but Lucas thinks he might know. He clings desperately to teasing her while he gives his heart a moment to settle.

“But we’re young and hot. Totally different.”

“Yeah, even weirder.” She rolls her eyes a little, leaning back against the table. There are papers set out behind her and Lucas’s eyes go to them naturally before swinging back to Eliott in question.

“Oh,” Eliott jumps as though startled, “yes. So, um… the surprise… or I mean, I thought it would be a nice sort of Christmas surprise. It’s not really a gift. It would have happened anyways. It’s just that I thought–”

“Oh my god,” Emily interrupts and Lucas will have to thank her for it later. That ramble was absolutely getting nowhere fast. “They’re legal guardianship papers. I’ve been emancipated from my father on the condition you guys sign and then you’ll be like… responsible for me or whatever.” There’s open defiance to the way she says it. Lucas recognizes the tactic – lead with defense, tuck away all vulnerable emotions, and should things not go your way, at least you’ll have anger to cling to.

“Or whatever?” Lucas asks, smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I’m going to be _responsible_ for you.”

She rolls her eyes, but Lucas can see the smile she’s fighting. “I’m totally more responsible than you anyways.”

“Well sure,” Lucas agrees easily, channeling as much teenage angst as possible as he continues, “but if you think I’m following a curfew or ‘no fucking in the library’ rule, you can get bent.” He turns to Eliott, crying with exaggerated drama. “But daddy I love him!” Eliott snickers quietly and Emily’s laughing now too.

“You’re such an idiot. Can’t believe a judge actually thinks you’re mature enough to be my guardian.”

“Eh,” Lucas shrugs, making his way towards Emily and pointing back to Eliott with his thumb. “That’s what he’s here for. He can be the responsible one. I’m the fun dad.”

“Hey!” Eliott protests at the same moment Emily scoffs, “I am _so_ not calling you dad.”

“Sure thing, Buttercup,” Lucas says with a grin, tapping her quickly under the chin. “‘My lord and savior’ it is.”

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Emily huffs with just the right amount of melodrama.

“And yet you did,” Lucas notes, looking down at the papers, already signed by Emily. There’s a warmth filling him, and he knows his happiness is showing, doesn’t try to hide it. “I’m glad.” He looks back to her.

Her cheeks are slightly pink, and she glances away quickly, eyes falling to the floor in front of her. “Well, me too, I guess.” She shrugs, looking up as Eliott approaches them both, coming to stand beside Lucas, hand spreading across his back in a gentle rub. “And like, thanks.”

“We should be thanking you,” Eliott replies softly. “For trusting us like this.”

“Sure.” She offers a slightly shrug, eyes skittering away again.

“Alright, let’s do this then.” Lucas rubs his hands together, looking back to Eliott with a grin.

They take a few moments to go through the paperwork, Eliott clearly having gone over everything with their lawyer prior. Then it’s just a few signatures and it’s done.

“Wow,” Lucas notes, standing back. “Just like that, hunh?”

“Just like that,” Eliott agrees, and his arms wrap around Lucas’s shoulders, squeezing him in a backwards hug. “We’re a family.”

“Do you guys really have to be this cheesy?” Emily doesn’t look at all displeased by her assessment, looking at them with what is very clearly affection.

“Uh hunh,” Lucas sniffs, tipping his chin a little, “and you’re family now. Means it’s in your blood.”

Emily and Eliott laugh.

“That’s not how this works.” Emily shakes her head, smile bright and happy.

“Hey, no arguing. Father knows best.” Lucas rubs his cheek affectionately against Eliott’s, tucking himself further in Eliott’s arms.

“I already regret this.” She pushes one of Eliott’s arms, effectively shoving them both as Eliott is still insisting on being fully wrapped around Lucas.

“Too late!” Lucas shouts gleefully, wiggling slightly in Eliott’s hold. “You’re stuck with us now.”

“What he means,” Eliott adds with an amused sigh, slumping until his head rests on Lucas’s shoulder, “is that we’re really happy you chose us. We’re – we’re honoured.” His arms tighten slightly around Lucas, and it’s with a growing warmth in his belly that Lucas realizes Eliott is holding to him in an effort to ground himself, just as overwhelmed by the moment as Lucas, despite the fact that he facilitated it. 

“She knows what I mean.”

When Emily looks back to him there’s a calm understanding to her gaze. She holds Lucas’s eyes. And the thing is, she does know. They’ve always understood one another. Eliott might be able to get away with aching sincerity and have Emily smiling at him sweetly. If Lucas tried that with her it would end in eye rolls and mockery – as it should. It’s right this way. A perfect balance. Between all three of them, it works.

“So… are you gonna show me my room or what?” She breaks eye contact, but the pleased flush to her cheeks remains.

“Demanding things already are you now?” Lucas asks with an eyebrow cocked. Eliott moves slightly to his side, arm still wrapped firmly around Lucas’s back. “You know, you might have him,” he pokes Eliott in the stomach, “wrapped around your little finger, ready to spoil you at a moment’s notice,” Eliott doesn’t even protest, snickering quietly at Lucas’s side, “but not me. Oh no, no, no. It’s the salt mines for you first thing tomorrow, young lady. Gotta earn your keep.”

Instead of responding to Lucas, Emily looks to Eliott. “This is seriously the guy you choose to spend the rest of your life with?” She asks with disdain. Such a brat. Lucas really does love her.

“Yeah. He is.” Eliott presses a wet kiss to the side of Lucas’s forehead, sounding happy and pleased – the absolute sap.

“I can’t deal with you guys being gross anymore,” Emily groans. She really does have the teenage angst thing perfected. She pushes past them, walking towards the door to exit the library. “If you won’t show me, I’ll just find it myself.”

“Yeah, good luck with that!” Lucas calls after her. “This place is a fucking maze.”

“You shouldn’t swear like that in front of her. We’re legal guardians now. We’re supposed to be responsible. Models of conduct,” Eliott chastises, turning to face Lucas, but with his arms resting on Lucas’s shoulders, keeping him close. His face is stern, brow wrinkled… truly just the cutest Prince.

“I’ll model conduct alright,” Lucas rebuts, having no particular idea what he even means – the point is to give Eliott shit more than anything else. “But hey,” he drops his voice a little, checking to see that Emily is a bit of a distance from them, waiting impatiently half outside the door, “do we have a room to show her?”

“Oh!” Eliott’s former serious expression, adopted with the sole intent of lecturing Lucas on proper use of language around minors, drops immediately and he breaks into a smile. “Of course. You think I was only busy getting your mom’s room ready? We’re welcoming two beautiful ladies to our home this Christmas. Our family.”

Of course. _Of course_ Eliott had thought through every detail. Lucas had expected this eventual occurrence – Emily becoming an official part of their family. He and Eliott had discussed it at length, including an initial conversation with Emily. Lucas had just been a little afraid to plan for it – afraid that the moment he did, it would slip through his fingers. It seems clear now Eliott had known this – had moved forward with plans, knowing he had Lucas’s approval, and made things happen. Made them happen because it was what Lucas wanted. What they both wanted. The family they’ve chosen.

“Thank you.” Lucas’s hands move to latch to the front of Eliott’s shirt, hanging there as he collects his thoughts and attempts to level out the emotions surging inside him. “This is the best Christmas I ever – and, I know you did this all for me.” One of Eliott’s hands moves to smooth across his cheek and Lucas’s eyes rise to meet his. “I just want you to know–” His voice breaks slightly, and he swallows, eyes dropping to his hands on Eliott’s chest as he blinks rapidly. “I just really – I hope you know–”

“Hey,” Eliott interrupts, tipping Lucas’s chin up until their eyes meet once more, “I do know. I know. And me too.”

“Yeah,” Lucas breathes. Overwhelmed, he leans forward to press his forehead into Eliott’s chest as he breathes shakily.

“C’mon!!!” Comes Emily’s voice from the door. “You guys are so lame. Some time today?”

Eliott’s chest rumbles beneath Lucas as he laughs. “She’s impatient. She gets that from you.”

“Excuse me,” Lucas scoffs, pushing up and away from Eliott as he turns to walk towards Emily, calling back, “she’s a next level sasskitten, Princeling. That’s all you.”

“Sasskitten?” Emily raises and eyebrow, looking unimpressed as Lucas approaches.

“Hm,” Lucas hums, narrowing eyes as he looks at her. “You’re right. You’re too annoying to be a kitten. Mouse it is. Sassmouse? Sassmousling? Mouthymouse? I’ll figure it out.”

“Mice aren’t annoying,” Eliott pipes up, swinging an arm around Lucas’s shoulders as he approaches, and pulling them both out of the library to follow Emily down the hall. “Mice are cute.”

“How can you say that and then feed them to Brian? Oh my god!” Lucas suddenly gasps in horror, shoving Eliott away from him. “Eliott! What if Brian wants to eat her now? We can’t have that. They’re siblings!”

“Who the fuck is Brian?” Emily has turned towards them, walking backwards down the hall… a move she’s clearly inherited from Eliott.

“You see!” Eliott points at her before looking back to Lucas with a scowl. “She talks that way because of you.”

“Swearing is what you’re concerned about? We’re talking about potential inter-sibling homicide here, Eliott!”

“Hello? Brian is…?”

“He’s my snake,” Eliott replies, immediately smiling. “You’ll love him.”

“A snake?” She breaks into a grin. “Cool! I love snakes.”

“Well, sure you do,” Lucas interrupts, unimpressed with having lost both of their attention. “Sweet little mouse just wanting to meet her big brother snake and them _chomp_. We’ve been remiss as parents. Teaching him to see all mice as food. We should be ashamed.”

“I’m not a mouse! Ugh.” She turns back around, adding a little stomp to her step.

Lucas jogs to catch up, latching an arm quickly around her neck to pull her close as she grumbles but doesn’t resist. “Don’t worry, mousling. I’ll protect you. I’m Brian’s favourite so you’ve got an in.”

“He kind of is Brian’s favourite,” Eliott concedes, coming up on Emily’s other side.

“What’s up with his name anyways? What kind of name is Brian for a snake?” Emily’s face scrunches as she asks.

“Right?!” Lucas crows, squeezing her closer in a half hug of gratitude. “A ridiculous name!”

“Why does everyone always say that? Brian is a great name! I chose it special. It suits him.” There’s a pout on Eliott’s face and if Lucas weren’t currently half wrapped around Emily, he likely would have given in and kissed that pitiful expression right off Eliott’s stupidly cute face. It’s Emily who responds instead, hooking an arm around Eliott’s as she pulls him closer, the three of them forming an awkward connected chain as they continue down the hall.

“Don’t worry. Brian’s definitely a cooler name than anything Lucas would have chosen. He probably would have named him after some old loser rock guy.”

“ _Loser rock guy_ ,” Lucas squeaks in outrage. “This disrespect cannot be tolerated! Just wait ‘til you meet my mom, she’ll set you straight.”

“Straight,” Eliott snorts. “Well thank god she didn’t manage that with you.” Emily giggles between them.

“ _Whoooaaaaaa_ , sassiest of sasspups.” Lucas’s voice echoes loudly in the foyer as they enter it. “We’re supposed to be setting a good example. Better check that attitude.”

“Please,” Emily scoffs. “I have more attitude than the two of you put together.”

“Ok yeah,” Lucas concedes with a snort, “that is probably true.”

“So,” Emily pushes away from the two of them, skipping forward towards the stairs. “Which way to this brother of mine?”

“Awwww,” Lucas mocks. “Look at her accepting her sisterly role already, sassling. I’m so proud.”

Eliott laughs, bridging the gap Emily left between them to pull Lucas closer as he motions to the second floor. “He’s in our room. Same hall as yours. That one there. Our room is third door on the left. Your room is further down.”

“Ok.” Her grin is suddenly mischievous. “Race you!” She turns and bolts up the stairs.

“Oh no you don’t!” Lucas yells, pushing away from Eliott to sprint after her.

“Lucas!” Eliott yells after them. “What happened to setting an example?”

“I am setting an example, Princeling,” Lucas yells back as he scales the stairs two at a time. “When I trip her, we’ll call it a life lesson!”

“That’s not what I meant!” Eliott’s laughter joins Lucas’s as he follows, Emily’s giggles preceding them. The sound of them together echoes through the grand space, filling the hollow, cold corners, with warmth and light. It’s happiness, different from how Lucas has ever experienced it. It’s family without fear. Love without loss. A future Lucas doesn’t mind contemplating. A future he can trust.

And _god_ , it’s really, really fun.

* * * *

It’s late when Lucas slips into their bedroom. He’d decided to spend a little more time with his mom after dropping her back off at her residence. Her visit had gone wonderfully well, but Lucas wasn’t surprised it had also been overwhelming and overstimulating for her. By the time he’d gotten her back home, she was nearly vibrating out of her skin with excess energy. He’d been prepared and whipped out his copy of The Princess Bride. It had been far too long since they’d watched together. It was the right choice. They’d curled in her bed together as they watched, and slowly but surely, she’d relaxed. Watching the story felt different than it ever had before. No longer an escape, it felt more like a celebration. There was nothing to escape from any longer. They both wanted to exist in the present. And even better, they could do so together. He’d never loved watching the film with her more. But it meant slipping into his and Eliott’s room hours past when Eliott had likely gone to sleep.

Lucas doesn’t turn on any lights as he enters, not wanting to wake his sleeping boyfriend, though he knows it’s likely a fruitless endeavor. Eliott almost always wakes when Lucas gets into bed. Just the same, Lucas knows the room well enough to find his way in the dark, and his eyes have already begun adjusting, allowing him to make out the rumpled lump in the bed that makes the corners of his mouth instantly pull up. He strips as he goes, dropping his clothing carelessly to the floor until he’s left shivering in only his briefs. Eliott will chastise him tomorrow for the strewn clothing and Lucas won’t even mind. He tiptoes to the bed, quietly pulling back the covers and slipping under them as silently as he can manage.

“Lucas?” Comes Eliott’s sleepy voice.

“You expecting someone else?” Lucas chuckles softly as he sinks into the mattress, shuffling forward until he can press his cold hands up against Eliott’s abs.

Eliott’s always been far too accommodating of Lucas’s penchant for pressing cold limbs against him, and doesn’t even jump, merely moving to meet Lucas halfway, immediately wrapping strong arms around him. He ignores Lucas’s question. “Your mom ok?”

“Mmhmm,” Lucas confirms, pressing a kiss to Eliott’s chest above his heart. “Just stayed to get her settled a bit.”

“Good,” Eliott hums, exhaustion heavy in his tone.

Lucas should let him fall right back to sleep. It’s been an emotionally taxing few days. He finds himself speaking instead.

“Em got to bed ok?”

“Yeah,” Eliott confirms, shuffling slightly until his lips are pressed to Lucas’s forehead, breath hot against his skin as he speaks. “Despite you telling her she was young and should be out raging.”

Lucas laughs silently. “What? Just making sure our kid grows up cool, Princeling.”

“Idiot,” Eliott’s voice rumbles with humour. “She’s cooler than both of us and you know it.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees easily. It’s definitely true. But Emily doesn’t need confirmation of that for at least a few more years.

“She’s determined to completely redecorate her room,” Eliott adds.

“What’d you tell her?” Lucas brushes his lips back and forth against Eliott’s skin, eyes slipping shut as he listens.

“Said she could do whatever she wanted. ‘s why the room was kept so simple. Knew she’d want to do her own thing.”

“Mmm,” Lucas moves a hand to rub Eliott’s back, smiling as Eliott’s reciprocates. “Smart Prince.”

“She’s pretty excited.” Eliott’s voice has slowed, words running together.

“I like having her here,” Lucas whispers.

“Me too.”

“Hey, Eliott?” He’ll let Eliott drift back to sleep. He will. There’s just something he needs to say first. And Lucas needs him awake for it. He presses back from Eliott’s chest, moving until his head rests on the same pillow. Eliott’s eyes shine as Lucas watches them blink open in the dark.

“You ok?” Eliott sounds instantly more awake and the question makes Lucas smile. His wonderful, attentive, loving boyfriend – partner for life.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lucas assures, voice gentle and happy. He leans forward to press a soft kiss to Eliott’s lips, before leaning back again. “I just – I needed to say – these last few days, they’ve been really great.” ‘ _Really great’_. He sounds like a fucking tool.

Eliott chuckles. “Yeah, they have.”

“No, fuck,” Lucas exhales. “I mean – yeah, they have but – that’s not how I meant to say it –”

“Lucas,” Eliott’s hand rubs firmly against Lucas’s back, a comforting warmth, “it’s ok. I know, baby. You don’t need to say it.”

“No, I do,” Lucas insists. “Or – I want to. Just let me.”

There’s a heavy pause between them and Lucas wonders for a moment if he’s fucked this up and offended Eliott. Instead, Eliott is pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then the tip of his nose, then his forehead. Lucas inhales shakily, gladly accepting the love and comfort offered. When Eliott pulls back he speaks softly, voice patient and saturated with affection.

“Ok, take all the time you need. I’m listening.”

“Ok,” Lucas agrees. He has to fight the desire to press his face back to Eliott’s chest, to hide his expression as he plans to strip himself emotionally bare with his words. He keeps his eyes locked with Eliott’s instead. “These last few days – they’ve been some of the best I’ve ever had.” It’s still not particularly eloquent but it’ll do for now. And he has more to say. “Everything in my life just keeps getting better. It’s because of you. Or – because of us. Because we’re together. Because we make one another better.” Eliott’s arm moves, wrapping Lucas closer so he’s able to press fingers into the soft hair at the back of Lucas’s head, but he doesn’t speak, allowing Lucas to continue. “And I want you to know that – I don’t always know how to say it or even fucking act like it,” he exhales a slight laugh and Eliott does as well, “but I know it. I know it every day. How fucking lucky we are. How lucky I am. To love you. To be loved by you. And I guess I just wanted to say – um – well, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me too.” That there are still emotional confessions that can rattle Lucas so extremely seems absurd. Lucas’s heart disagrees however, thumping rapidly against his rib cage. “Ok,” he breathes. Eliott is still silent. “Talk now.”

Eliott’s lips press to his forehead instead, his breath heavy.

“Eliott?” Lucas asks, voice shaky. “Say something.”

“You sure?” Eliott asks, voice thready.

Lucas huffs a laugh, emotions thick in his voice. “Yes, idiot. Say something.”

Eliott snorts, pulling back with one hand coming to clasp the side of Lucas’s neck. “Don’t start insulting me after that. I’m having a moment. You’ll ruin it.”

“ _Having a moment_ ,” Lucas mocks, feeling immediately lighter. “Cheesiest fairy-tale Prince.”

“Fine! You asked for it!” Eliott’s arms are suddenly wrapping tightly around Lucas’s back, crushing their chests together and he’s pressing wet kisses all over Lucas’s face. “I love you. I love you. Love of my life. My love. The best. Romantic boy. Love you.”

Laughter erupts from Lucas as he tries in vain to dodge to overload of kisses and love declarations, wriggling in Eliott’s arms and turning his face back and forth as Eliott smothers him in kisses. “I take it back! I take it back!” He snorts with giggles. “Keep it! I don’t want it.”

“Yes, you do!” Eliott’s laughing now too, targeting Lucas’s mouth and missing each time Lucas dodges his attack. “You love me! You love me for _life_. My romantic boy.”

“Alright, alright!” Lucas gets his hands free from where they were trapped between their bodies and cups Eliott’s face, holding him still. “I will allow you one kiss. Then we sleep. No more mushy stuff. Just sleep.”

“One kiss, hunh?” Eliott’s smile lights up the room despite the darkness.

“Just one kiss,” Lucas agrees.

“I guess I better make it a good one then. Think I’m up to the challenge?” He moves just enough to rub their noses together in a tease of the kiss to come.

Lucas hums, blinking his eyes in the dark as he stares at Eliott. “Yeah,” Lucas agrees, voice soft and thick with meaning. “I think you’re up to the challenge. History is in your favour.”

And then they’re kissing, and Lucas is reminded of the final lines of The Princess Bride. Of a kiss so passionate and pure it left the rest behind. He’d always thought that was what he wanted. That would be the epitome of a perfect kiss. The reality is different. Better. Not perfect like a fairy-tale. It’s messy and uncoordinated in the dark with sleep seeking to pull them under, Eliott biting Lucas’s lip a little too enthusiastically as they laugh into one another’s mouths, but it’s them. Lucas and Eliott. And still, after all this time, it’s there. That spark, that feeling, that certainty. Because it’s Eliott. Because it’s been Eliott since Lucas met him that first time with wide-eyed wonder. Since the very first time Eliott kissed him and set Lucas’s world alight, forever changing the course of both of their lives. Only now, Lucas can say, with a flood of happiness filling every hollow space inside him, this one kiss… it won’t be the last.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *tries not to cry... fails* 
> 
> Love you guys. I really hope the ending of this story satisfied. I am so crazy attached to it at this point I don't quite know how to let go. The support I have received has been truly overwhelming (in the absolute best way possible) and I cannot thank all of you enough for the messages, comments, submissions, tags... all of it. It brought me so much joy. 
> 
> Special shout out to my brat Julie (@ariavds) for... so many reasons. Mostly for being the most loving and supportive brat. To Aly as well for all the work she did creating those chapter header graphics. It was always so fun to receive those as a surprise and I thank you so much, my friend. And to another dear friend, Cor (@pinkplanetaries) for always making me think of my writing in new and wonderful ways, and for being a writer of such talent I find endless inspiration in reading her work. 
> 
> Anywhoser, if there are more questions, things unanswered, whatevsssss, hit me up in the comments or send me a message on tumblr (@surrealsunday) and you know I will get back to you. 
> 
> Love youuuuuu all!!!!!!


	14. Future Snippets + Q&A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knowwwww this will make anyone with notifications on think there was a random chapter update. Sorry!!! I just wanted to get the Q&A connected to the fic and also include the future snippets I wrote on tumblr for anyone who won't have seen them there. Enjoy! 
> 
> Q&A comes first. Future snippets at the end.

  * Why is it called Hollow Edge?



In Hollow Edge there is an underlying theme of being hollow/ filled… specifically when it comes to Lucas. He mentions this feeling a lot in relation to Eliott. Essentially he’d been ‘hollow’ for a lot of his life. He found ways to cope – it’s mentioned that visits with his mother helped to ‘fill’ him for short periods of time, but overall he was living a very lonely and hollow existence. When Eliott comes into Lucas’s life you will see more references to him being ‘full to spilling over’… both in ways that reference happiness and in ways that simply reference a flood of emotions he can’t control.

That is the first part of the meaning. It’s layered though. Hollow edge is a type of knife. At first glance it’s just a knife - sharp, meant for cutting. When you look closer, parts of the blade are hollowed out. This makes it more effective for what it’s supposed to do but also more delicate, more vulnerable and prone to breaking. The knife blade is hollowed in this manner so that when cutting, things won’t stick to it as easily. I think you’ve probably picked up on what I’m getting at there re: Lucas. The knife becomes a perfect metaphor for who Lucas is/ who he is trying to be.

  * Since Eliott and Manon are twins, I wanted to ask who is older? Who would be heir to the throne?



Eliott is the heir. But I hadn’t totally decided in the fic whether that was because he was first born… or because they had outdated rules that the male would be heir to the throne. It doesn’t really come up… only the fact that Eliott is heir… but yeah in this universe I could see there being a number of outdated rules like that… merely because no one ever bothered to change them. 

  * Did Eliott's mother recognize Lucas right away, during the ice cream incident? Or, because Lallemant is his mother's last name, she didn't connect the dots at first and realized it was him only after she researched?



The latter. I make a point in the fic when it comes to Lucas’s interactions with her initially, in making it clear that she is not paying him any particular attention. He’s staff and she barely looks at him. And yes this is a disgusting way to behave but as someone who has been a bit like Lucas in my life (I’ve been the one being served in that kind of crowd, and the one doing the serving) it is very, very normal that someone like the Queen would barely make eye contact with a staff member like Lucas (most especially because in this fic the focus is on a pretty negative depiction of that superiority complex as represented by the ‘elite’ crowd). The only reason she realizes who he is, is because following the ice cream incident, she had that convo with Eliott that then makes it clear Lucas is very important to her son (in a way she definitely wasn’t expecting, if anything she just thought Eliott was fucking around with a nobody for fun - keep in mind that Eliott has been with men before and in my mind it probably would have been insignificant sort of hookups amongst his peers and friends). So, knowing Lucas matters, her focus then goes to him and she starts looking into who he is exactly. And through his last name she finds his mother and at that point she makes the connection and contacts his father. So yeah… that night with the ice cream led to quite a bit more drama than either Eliott or Lucas ever expected.

  * How/ why did you come up with the Manon/ Idriss ship?



So honestly I think originally it was superficial aesthetics… I was basically like ‘good lawd those two would look good together’ 🙈😂. But then I thought more about it and it just made sense that they would compliment one another beautifully? Like Imane is Idriss’s sister. He’s used to be surrounded by strong, independent, (stubborn) women. He’s used to _loving_ women like that. And moreover, we saw the way he supported Imane… the way he basically encouraged her to own her own strength and choices. Of course he’d fall in love with Manon.

From Manon’s perspective, she’d have grown up surrounded by Charles’… guys who think ‘a no is just a yes in waiting’. She’d have grown up surrounded by men who are so incredibly false, constantly feeling the need to prove their masculinity… and in all the wrong, most toxic ways. Then you have Idriss… this huge, strong, powerful guy who could crush those other dumbasses like ants and yet he is just the biggest, sweetest and most supportive dumbass, who just (as Manon says) let’s her become who she wants to become.

  * Did Lucas' father try to find him when he first ran away? And how much did he know about his adult life/what was his reaction when the queen told him Lucas is working at the palace? And also, if it doesn't come up later, how and when did Lucas' mother manage to leave him?



Yes, Lucas’s dad would have tried to find him. The only reference I make to this is in that conversation with Emily when she asks if Lucas’s dad tried to get him back and he admits that he did but Alexia helped him. I also make references to the ways shelters protect the youth staying with them. From what I understand the youth shelters in France are actually pretty fucked up. I base Alexia’s more on what I know of youth shelters in Canada (i.e. an actual safe, properly run youth shelter). So what I imagine is a few things… 1. Alexia teaching him how to survive and more importantly disappear on the streets, 2. Lucas eventually changing his last name, 3. His dad showing up or having his people show up at youth shelters throughout the city, the youth shelter refusing to release information about the youth in their charge (names are not a requirement so even if his father used legal means for a release of information - they wouldn’t have necessarily found Lucas’s name), 4. Probably a few instances of Lucas actually _seeing_ his father without his father seeing him - and this making Lucas even more determined to disappear, and learn to protect himself. So obviously I leave it a little general but eventually his father would have stopped pursuing Lucas as actively because of the rumours that would have kicked up among elite circles. 

When Lucas comes of age, he’s using his mother’s last name, but despite that there would be essentially a paper trail for him (because ya know, working, filing taxes, etc). His father probably would have located him at that point but there wasn’t much he could do… he didn’t really have ‘leverage’ over Lucas considering Lucas was financially independent. Unfortunately what the Queen unintentionally gives Lucas’s father is leverage - the ability to fuck up the cost of Lucas’s mother’s care. He’s looking to make Lucas financially reliant on him (which is something Lucas acknowledges in the narrative). Lucas’s father would have absolutely encouraged a line of thinking in conversation with the Queen that Lucas was somehow taking advantage of them - looking to manipulate Eliott, etc etc - all so that he could put Lucas’s job in jeopardy. Once again, this is because he needs financial control over Lucas.

Lucas’s mom never manages to leave his father. This again is a very sad part of the story. She’s not only mentally ill, she’s abused. After Lucas runs away, his father can’t really be bothered to deal with Lucas’s mom anymore. This is a blessing in a way because he puts her into a care home. Once he’s of age, Lucas finds her, and gets her moved to a better facility. 

  * About the drawings Eliott posts on insta- what do the distorted piano keys in chap 9 symbolize? And with the caption "from the beginning" like is he referring to Lucas saying "it was all real”?



So in that painting the keys start out normal and then become distorted… or more specifically they become sound… the distortion is meant to represent the sound being created by the keys. So they go from something you can see and understand to something you need to hear and feel. Essentially, it’s Eliott struggling with what he sees/ thinks he knows, and what he feels/ what he truly _knows._ At that time, he’s trying to figure out what learning about Lucas changes. He’s also trying to ‘step up’ so to speak and actually move forward on a number of important issues (with regards to their mother, his and Manon’s leadership, Lucas’s mom, the shelter, etc). So he has all these important steps to take, all of this responsibility, and he’s not sure how to deal with all of his emotions and feelings while he is doing so. The painting is those two sides merging… it’s him realizing that nothing has changed. What he knows and what he feels merge together - and he can achieve all at once. The caption is indeed a reference to Lucas’s words - it’s Eliott acknowledging that nothing has changed. He loves Lucas all the same and he’s realizing it’s the same for Lucas. That ‘from the beginning’ it’s always been Lucas.

  * Who proposed and did you consider including that scene?



To be honest, the ‘being married’ bit just didn’t feel like it would be as important in this story as others (like Tempo). It was really the ‘building a family’ that was the most important part of their story. And they didn’t need marriage for that. Which is why I make it a bit of an aside, years down the line. With that said, I imagine it wouldn’t have been something that particularly came up. And Eliott would have treated it much like not kissing Lucas initially… like he wouldn’t have made a deal out of it because he didn’t _need_ to be married to Lucas and he was taking cues from Lucas (thinking it wasn’t something on Lucas’s mind… even if they would occasionally joke about being married). Then Lucas would have randomly proposed one day in a truly romantic, thought-out fashion.

Eliott was completely surprised. The way Lucas goes about the proposal is well… unexpected. Because he would have PLANNED. He would have made it a big elaborate thing… something one would expect of Eliott but not necessarily Lucas. But that’s the point… Lucas knows it is what Eliott would want… and the planning of the proposal is more about Eliott than it is about Lucas. So, Lucas gets romantic af about it haha. And still Eliott would not see it coming. He’d be giddy over whatever romantic thing Lucas had planned… just really enjoying being spoiled by Lucas for no observable reason. So when Lucas goes all ‘classic proposal’ on Eliott’s ass and gets down on one knee… yeah, Eliott lost it. He probably would have yelled ‘yes’ while crying before Lucas ever finished proposing haha. And then there would be more tears (from Eliott) and Lucas teasing, insisting that Eliott ruined it and he needed to finish… and then Lucas goes to finish and at that point gets choked up… and then, mutual tears and much mush. 

  * How would Emily get along with both her grandmas?



I gave this some thought when I was originally thinking what to include in the epilogue. So Emily would have a bit of a distant relationship with the Queen. I think the Queen would actually quite like her. Emily has attitude but she’s very independent and very strong… and that is something the Queen would respect and even admire. But Lucas and Eliott aren’t ever going to be hugely close to the Queen - though that relationship would likely heal a bit more over time - so I don’t think Emily would ever be very comfortable with her. It would be friendly but formal. 

With Lucas’s mom it would be different. Emily would be very much like Lucas in all interactions with his mom… meaning instantly very protective. Emily is a carer… much like Lucas, she is protective of the people she loves (sort of goes along with the way Lucas refers to her as a mini-him). So she would have a close and loving relationship with that grandma, and be way more gentle and sweet with her than anyone else. It would be a running joke with the little family - with Lucas always teasing her about how his mom got the sweet Emily, and they had to deal with all the rest lol. But yeah, Lucas’s mom would bring out the quiet and gentle qualities in Emily for sure. 

  * What did Lucas give Eliott for Christmas?



What he actually gave Eliott - in terms of objects - would have been much less important. I was originally thinking he would have done a vinyl or something connected to an inside joke that was just about them, something inexpensive and maybe even second-hand, and not really the main ‘present’. What he really would have given Eliott is something they could do together. Some sort of ‘experience’… I never decided on exactly what… but it would be some sort of adventure/ fun thing to do together. And it would be about Eliott - i.e. related to art, or some other interest Eliott had mentioned. 

But Lucas would completely second-guess himself… especially seeing Manon and Idriss give one another thoughtful (likely more expensive) gifts. So Lucas would be a nervous wreck and Eliott would be super confused about why Lucas kept saying over and over again how they didn’t really need to do it together and it was a stupid idea (gotta remember… despite his growth, there are always going to be stumbling blocks for Lucas). Eliott would pick up on what was going on however and at that point they’d go do the ‘thing’ (whatever it was) and have the most amazing time. Eliott would really emphasize how much he loved that Lucas came up with something for them to do together and how much he loved having memories with Lucas instead of things. At which point Lucas would light up and completely agree. That would really set the stage for how they handled things like this in the future. Sure they’d actually give one another presents on occasion, but there would be a big emphasis on gifting one another experiences to do together vs. physical objects. It’s just more in line with who they both are and what they value. 

  * So they adopted two more kids?? A girl and a boy? Or did they get a surrogate and that boy is actually a mini-Eliott?? How did Emily react to that? Did Brian accept his new siblings??



Yeah 😌. I mean that was very much decided by those photos Maxence had with the kids, but it ended up working perfectly because this is how I pictured it- they meet the older boy and he’s a bit of a spitfire and ‘problem’ kid… so naturally he bonds with Lucas. So Lucas is determined that he’s their kid, Eliott of course agrees and makes it happen. The little girl would come later- a year or so after adopting the boy.

Emily would have been aware that Lucas and Eliott were intending on adopting for years. So I imagine she would start hassling them after a while… like ‘get to it already!’ and teasing them about providing her with siblings. So when it happens she would be hugely supportive and really help the kids (the older boy especially) with the transition and settling in. Emily being away at school would also add to her cool, older sister status ☺️.

Brian of course welcomed all his new siblings but Lucas remains his favourite 😌❤️.

  * When Lucas gives over all control to Eliott in the epilogue sex scene and Eliott's like "oh my god" the whole time--what's he thinking? Like about Lucas trusting him that much and after when Lucas asks if it was good for him as well? And also Lucas keeps crying--is it bc he's emotional or just like a release?



So Lucas definitely is way more emotional once he’s secure in his relationship with Eliott. I think that’s pretty true to who Lucas is in the show too. He’s a pretty openly emotional bub. But he shut down those emotions for a lot of years - really didn’t let himself feel them in an effort to protect himself. So now that he doesn’t feel the need to protect himself in the same way, he really lets himself feel all of the feels… and yeah, that results in him letting himself go a whole lot more… i.e. tears. 

As for the sex scene, Eliott is pretty in control that whole time… because it was necessary for him to be in control, in order to keep Lucas safe and make sure that he was in fact responding to Lucas in the right ways (i.e. giving him what he needed). Eliott is very aware of what a big deal that was for Lucas, and even more aware of the fact that it was what Lucas needed. So _during_ Eliott isn’t so much freaking out … it’s about Lucas and he makes it about Lucas, and he’s very confident and sure in those moments. The next morning - outside the heat of the moment - you get more of those insecurities popping up for them both. It’s natural that after such an important and huge choice made by Lucas (to let Eliott be in complete control), the gravity of that would hit, and Eliott would want to check in and make sure that Lucas was ok - and he’s Eliott, so of course he does that in his sweet, gentle way. But yes, Eliott absolutely understood the level of trust it took Lucas to be with him in that way and no one would be more careful in the handling of that trust than Eliott. 

  * How long did it take for Lucas to truly put things in the past and hook up with people?



Despite acting like a cocky little shit now… Lucas would have been an adorable disaster as a teen. I mean his life was turned upside down… and because of who he is, he absolutely would have put up a front and tried acting a lot more confident than he was, but in actuality he didn’t know wtf he was doing. That’s just who Lucas is in this story. Yann meets him around that time… at 16. Lucas would have taken another few hits being rejected by innocent crushes (not Eliott-sized crushes) just trying-to-be-normal and allowing myself to be openly gay so I am going to hit on this boy but I am an absolute disaster 😂. Now I thought a lot when I was writing about what would have driven Lucas to being so incredibly emotionally and physically distant from men. So yeah, I do think Lucas would have become sexually active relatively young. About the time he meets Yann. I mention that joke about Lucas trying to get Yann into bed. That wouldn’t have been because Lucas was already having sex… he just decided that was what he needed to do. Now this doesn’t come up in the story but in my own mind I figured Lucas set his mind on having sex - because he’s a rough, tough cocky street kid, right? It’s just what he’s _supposed_ to do! Yann is trying to help by actually getting Lucas with guys their own age … that doesn’t happen. Lucas would have ended up hooking up with a much older guy, in a very much less-than-romantic situation… and that again laid the foundations for how Lucas understands sex and how he treats relationships. Obviously that is not the nicest thing to think about… but it all ends up ok in the end once Lucas finds Eliott again 😌.

  * Do you think Lucas ever wanted to go back to school? Does he feel like he missed out on that part of his life?



I think originally I had meant to include this detail in the fic. I can’t remember if I cut it or just never ended up including it because it would have been shoe-horned in. So I based Lucas’s shelter experience off those in Canada. So most here will provide programs to finish your schooling. Lucas would have done one of those programs through the shelter - it’s the equivalent of getting your grade 12 (as it would be called here) through distance education. But yeah he would have completed that and done so while working - again likely with the help of the employment programs through the shelter. That’s when he really starts getting experience working in garages, as well as other employment experiences when he gets older.   
  
I don’t think Lucas ever really felt like he missed out - not on the school experience or the uni experience. I hadn’t thought a lot about it tbh, but reading your question and I just think that Lucas was forced to have such different priorities so early on, a lot of the more ‘fun’ or ‘frivolous’ experiences of other kids would have felt truly insignificant to him. With that said… making sure his kids had those experiences? Oh yeah, he would be all over that. He would very much want his kids to experience a ‘proper’ childhood - i.e. one where their innocence was allowed and they were not forced up to grow up too early. As Lucas said, he wouldn’t have wished his childhood on anyone, but he doesn’t regret where he ended up - or who it caused him to become. Making sure his kids had the best and most loving childhood would be a definite priority for him though.

  * How did the Queen feel about Manon pregnancy? Does she love her granddaughter?



Yes absolutely the Queen would love her grandbaby. As much as the Queen might have fucked up big time as a parent, she does love Manon and Eliott. And those two made it very clear how close she was to losing them entirely. And no, it will never be a hugely close or healthy relationship between all of them, but Manon has always been able to handle their mom better than Eliott. Eliott was the heir to the throne and the focus of most of the Queen’s meddling and attempted control. There are references to that throughout - that Manon sort of slipped through the cracks (not entirely in a bad way) due to the Queen’s attention being on Eliott. So Manon wouldn’t have really allowed her mom an opportunity to be anything but happy for them. Like if it were Eliott talking to his mom about having a kid, it would be done with a lot more hesitancy and probably some fumbled words. Manon is more ‘this is how things are, I am happy, you can be happy for me and have nothing to do with it’. The Queen would choose the route that allowed her to remain a part of her grandbaby’s life. And while she’d likely continue to screw up a bit when it came to interactions with all her grandkids… at the end of the day she’s probably try to correct past mistakes through them (i.e. be a better grandparent than she was a mom). But as with Elu’s kids, it would always remain a bit more of a formal and distant relationship (than it would with Idriss’s parents for eg). 

  * Was Lucas ever hesitant about moving in with Eliott? Does Eliott understand how much it means to Lucas? Does Eliott make an extra effort to make him feel loved? Was Eliott really lonely before Lucas?



I think if it had been a situation of ‘we’re in a relationship so let’s live together’ and that alone… it would have been something Lucas was a lot more hesitant about doing. But them moving in together is very much cloaked in them building the apprenticeship program together. So it’s more than a ‘moving in’ step in a relationship… it’s like they skip all that and go right into building a whole life together. It’s obviously not a conversation I cover in the fic because… well you saw the length, it was already out of control lol. But I would expect once the dust settled a little bit after their reunion there would need to be something that lead to them actually living together - I don’t know that it would have been a conversation that came about in the way you’d expect though.

Lucas would have been a little nervous about what was happening - were they living together? Should he get his room back? - but not said anything because Eliott wasn’t saying anything. Then one day (not long after the reunion - literally within a matter of days), Eliott would have been clearing out areas of his room for Lucas - a dresser, a drawer, part of the closet, and made some innocuous comment about Lucas’s side of the bed and probably a joke or two about how little Lucas owned and how they’d need to get him more clothes if only so Eliott could actually believe Lucas was really there. At that point Lucas would realize Eliott had just assumed Lucas was moving in - like it was a given that it was now Lucas’s room too. That wouldn’t have resulted in a mature ‘are we living together?’ conversation. I picture it more like Lucas then tackling a very surprised Eliott to the bed… then being all ‘we’re living together’… and Eliott is like ‘um… yes???’ and adorably confused… and Lucas kisses the hell out of him. So yeah… they’ll get better at the communication thing but in those early stages a lot of that would have been solved in their sort of silent, unclear, but also totally in sync way hehe. 

As for Eliott’s POV - I think Eliott was a little too in his own state of euphoria to totally realize just what a huge step that would have been for Lucas. I mean you can probably imagine just how giddy and blissful Eliott was in those first few days of them being reunited. So while he’s normally hella in tune with how Lucas is feeling, in this particular case they were both pretty high on one another and maybe not seeing things as clearly and practically as they would normally (that’s putting it kindly lol). 

Now if the story had continued and I’d written scenes right after the reunion, I would have written a scene where they both sort of have a moment of realization themselves. Lucas would have already had his moment (as mentioned in that previous ask where he would have tackled Eliott to the bed sort of declaring they were living together and then probably distracting Eliott directly afterwards so the convo didn’t go any further lol). But I could see Eliott, who has just gone ahead and jumped right in, making space for Lucas in his room and life, suddenly having a dawning moment of realization (about the gravity of what having Lucas there and really living with him meant). There is a tiny moment in the epilogue where Lucas mentions that Eliott is going to hassle him later for leaving his clothes strewn across the floor. Related to that idea, the scene I would have written would be Eliott in their room sort of pausing as he looked around at a bit of a disaster. Lucas, as few belongings as he has, had somehow managed to spread them everywhere. Like clothes strewn across furniture, a random collection of things on his side of the bed… just crap everywhere. It would really hit Eliott in that moment that they’re together, they’re living with one another, and it’s real. Naturally this would result in Eliott - the big moosh pile that he is - getting super emotional. Lucas would walk into the room as Eliott is standing there frozen, he’d probably make some sarcastic little comment about how Eliott really needed to clean up after himself. Eliott would tackle him in a hug, very obviously emotional… say something sweet and related like ‘you’re really here’… Lucas is all ‘er… yeah?’… and Eliott says he’s very glad. They sort of stare at one another in their sweet romantic way until Eliott smacks Lucas on the butt and tells him to clean up his mess because Eliott isn’t doing it for him… Lucas is like ‘wanna bet’… insert much banter and cuteness. That’s how I see that going. 

As for the lonely question. Tbh, _both_ Eliott and Lucas were hugely lonely before they got together. Yes they had people in their lives who they loved dearly but there’s no doubt they were missing one another before they ever found one another again. So yeah, in their own little ways, they fill those voids and would always go extra lengths to make the other feel love and cherished (with much snark and sass attached). 

  * I know that you’ve mentioned that Lucas mom sadly never was able to leave as Lucas had but when Lucas ran away, did he not see his mom for 5 years until he was able to get her out? Or was he able to secretly see her without his dad finding out?



So I think this is up to you to decide because I personally went between a few options and I’m still not exactly sure what side I fall on - it depends on the day. Some of the time I think no, Lucas got out and there was no way for him to have contact with his mom. It would have obviously been hard af for him not to see her… but he was a young teen in way over his head, and it would have been easiest (the least painful) to not think about her… to sort of forcibly push her from his mind. And no doubt the advice he would be getting from Alexia is that he could in no way go anywhere near his house or his dad ever again. In those early years he was just trying to survive and years would have passed before he knew it. 

With that said, I also start to think that it’s likely that there would have been a little contact - from Lucas’s side. I imagine he would have phoned the house at times he’d think he could find her alone… just to hear her voice… probably not saying anything on his end. Or maybe times he got really close to the house, thinking he could maybe sneak in to see her before deciding it was too dangerous or would hurt too much. I think whatever version of events you decide is most likely, after a few years of Lucas being out of that house, he would have talked to Alexia about how he could find out about his mom… how she was doing, how he could get her out of there. I think that would have begun around when he was 16. It would have taken a few years and by the time he tracked her down, he was a legal adult, she was in a medical facility and that’s when he makes his move and gets her out. 

As I said, I went through different versions of what I think is most likely. It’s probably an easiest to imagine a combo of all of what I listed above. 

  * Was Lucas planning on ever telling Eliott they knew each other? Like maybe far into the future? Or was he so emotionally constipated that that thought didn't even cross his mind?



Lucas for the majority of the story had tucked away his past (and that memory) like it didn’t matter… it wasn’t who he was anymore. It’s the same reason he barely even acknowledges that part of himself within the privacy of his own head. So he truly doesn’t think it’s even important enough to tell Eliott - not until he can no longer resist what is happening between them (I mean, more than just the physical). The moment he starts letting his guard down with Eliott, and starts letting Eliott truly in, that’s when history starts to matter - who Lucas was is no longer separate from who he is. And that means acknowledging he was (and still is) the boy Eliott knew. So yes, he would have told Eliott. But he had no set plan. It’s as they’re in the library that Lucas decides he’s going to be completely honest. He thinks to himself that he’s going “to be completely honest with Eliott. About everything.” That’s the moment he’s decided he’ll tell Eliott everything. And then of course that opportunity is taken from him by the Queen and Lucas’s father. 

  * When Emily or the rest of the children got in a relationship, who would be the protective-jealous father that refuses their children are growing?



It would definitely be Eliott who was constantly freaking out over every little thing. Lucas would actually be pretty chill about things you’d imagine he’d be far more overprotective about. But Lucas grew up with a serious sense of freedom. And while the circumstances were not great obviously, Lucas still really values the opportunity he had to make mistakes and make choices for himself. So Lucas would probably be a little _too_ relaxed, and Eliott a little too overprotective. The two of them would balance one another out and meet in the middle. Most of those ‘figuring out how to parent’ things would come up with Emily. By the time they adopt their other little ones, they’d have a much better handle on how they worked together in raising kiddos. Poor Emily would have had to deal with them figuring it all out lol. They’re lucky she loves them like she does. 

  * Does Eliott ever find out what Charles whispered into Lucas' ear at the ball? What if he did? What would his reaction be?



No. I don’t see Lucas ever bringing it up. He really isn’t someone to dwell on that, especially because he knows Charles is ‘dealt with’ in a way. Agreed though - Eliott would lose his mind if he knew. I think more than anything he’d be really, really upset. He was already pretty distraught over Charles putting his hands on Lucas that night. He meant it when he said he should have acted earlier and that Charles never should have been there. But I could see a convo with Lucas and the Italia boys when he and Eliott are there for the Nicotino wedding. Lucas would _definitely_ want to hear the details of Gio nearly punching Charles lol. So I could see some more details over what Charles did (specifically when it came to the female staff) coming up. But I think more than anything it would be all the boys bonding over how much they all would still like to punch Charles in the face. 

Additionally, if Eliott hypothetically found out, it would be with him and Lucas in a really secure and happy place. And there’s likely even more conversation in Royal circles that Charles will be passed over (i.e. they don’t need to worry about Charles becoming King). Eliott’s initial upset reaction wouldn’t last long. Lucas would be able to calm him down pretty quickly. They’d discuss things, Eliott would probably feel the need to apologize again, Lucas would explain how little that memory of Charles affects him now, that what he mostly remembers is Eliott being so ready to defend him… he’d probably lighten the mood by making a joke about how Eliott all fierce and angry was pretty hot… and yeah, the initial drama would dissipate pretty quickly. 

Even though throughout the story Eliott and Lucas aren’t being open about their feelings, they actually communicate in general very well. They understand one another and know how to respond to one another in any given situation. That sort of communication would only strengthen between them over time - especially being in a relationship now with feelings out in the open - so if this situation came up, it’s definitely something they’d be able to handle pretty well and pretty quickly. 

  * What went through Eliott’s mind when he froze after Lucas kissed him for the first time? And later when he realized he was the only one to ever kiss him?



I don’t know that it was actual rational thought - not in the sense of complete sentences. When Lucas kisses Eliott, it was total disbelief that had Eliott freezing. So mostly it’s ‘is this happening? this is happening? he kissed me?’ and then pure instinct and reaction as he pushes Lucas back and then _really_ kisses him. As for learning he was the only one to kiss Lucas - there are two reactions. The first is when he learns as they’re fighting. That is not a good reaction to that news. It’s total devastation. But later, when they’re reunited and he’s able to appreciate the fact (namely in the car) well… you saw the beginning of how smug he is about that fact. Purely from an emotional point of view, it means an enormous amount to him. Really I’d say it’s hard for Eliott to even fully accept how huge that knowledge is… and what it really means in terms of how deeply Lucas feels for him. I think disbelief remains a running theme there. More than anything, Eliott really just can’t believe he got that lucky - to have Lucas, but to be the only one Lucas ever wanted… that fact is pretty damn mind-blowing. 

  * When did Eliott realize he was in love with Lucas?



I thought about this a bit when I was writing because I wanted to know as the author but I also knew it was likely to be a question. Obviously Eliott is seriously into Lucas from the very beginning - and he knows Lucas is going to be important. And the attraction between them is a given. I don’t think realizing he loved Lucas would be much of a ‘whoa’ moment. I think it was more like a moment he thinks it but it’s not a revelation… sort of like he’d been thinking it for a while and not acknowledging it? So it’s not a shock at all. Does that makes sense? I also don’t think it will be a huge surprise when I tell you when Eliott started more openly thinking to himself that he loved Lucas. It was the same moment he thinks Lucas will be a good dad… when he is watching The Princess Bride with Lucas and Emily et all, at the shelter. He watches Lucas cuddling Emily and thinks about Lucas being a dad. Eliott doesn’t separate himself from that thought. Meaning he thinks Lucas will be a good dad and includes himself in that future musing - i.e. he’ll get to see Lucas be a good dad in the future. So yeah it’s not so much ‘oh my god I’m in love with him’ as it is acknowledging that feeling that’s been growing for a while is actually love - a natural result of him imagining a future and a family with Lucas. 

It also means that by the time shit goes down - with the Queen interfering with the shelter and Lucas’s mom’s housing - and Lucas has his mini breakdown, Eliott is very aware that he’s in love. 

  * How do Lucas and Eliott deal with Eliott’s episodes when he gets them?



Hmmm it depends truly. That’s hard to answer. If for example he changed up medication or dosages and as a result had a mild episode, such as a depressive episode, he’d do about what you’d expect which is retreat to bed and not want to be around people. If he stopped taking medication and ended up having a more extreme manic episode, he thankfully is at a point in his life where the people around him would likely recognize the signs and be able to keep him safe. It’s not so much about what Eliott would do because in all honesty, when it comes to mental illness that’s not always something he has any control over. How his loved ones responded however would be more significant. Lucas thankfully is not in the dark about Eliott’s mental illness and has a great deal of experience with his mom (though her own situation is different from Eliott’s), so he would be a really strong support system for Eliott and be able to recognize signs and respond appropriately, be it just keeping Eliott safe, or just silently being there for Eliott until he was feeling better. And Eliott would have the support of mental health professionals as well so he’d be well cared for. It’s obviously nothing I’ve delved into in a lot of detail in my stories because the topic of mental illness hits pretty close to home for me and I honestly don’t think I could fully do an exploration justice. But it’s also an integral part of the Even character, and I always want to make it clear that it’s part of who Eliott is. 

  * Could you tell us about a missing moment?



A missing moment… or more accurately a scene I considered but didn’t end up including anywhere… a pool party with all the couples and friends. It would have been set during/ after the epilogue. Meaning everyone is together and happy. So it’s just a good, wholesome fun time for everyone. Idriss and Lucas have a contest to see who can hold their breath under water longer. Lucas wins. This leads to him winking at Eliott and declaring what a lucky man he is… then turning to apologize to Manon on behalf of Idriss. A hilarious conversation ensues wherein Idriss in his outrage yells something about how you can just breath through your nose when you’re going down on someone… and of course Lucas’s whole ploy was to get Idriss to say something especially dirty, so he is gratified by embarrassing Idriss in such a way. 

Oh! And before the party Eliott threatens Lucas that he isn’t allowed to say anything about them having sex on one of the pool loungers. And of course that’s what we’d all expect right - that it would be Lucas to make a lewd and inappropriate comment. Only it ends up being Eliott who slips up - probably after getting riled up over Idriss and Lucas getting flirty. I would imagine the reaction would be stunned silence and then a lot of yelling from everyone lol. Eliott would be shocked he’d said it as well - standing there with his mouth hanging open - while Lucas would just laugh and laugh and laugh. 

  * In the car on the drive home from the bar when Eliott tells Lucas he is bipolar, how did this change what Lucas felt about his first kiss with Eliott? Did he think Eliott's episode meant he didn't feel the same? That was just him?



Lucas didn’t really put those pieces together and conclude that Eliott didn’t feel the same. That’s partially why it’s important in that moment that Lucas acknowledges what he does about his mom - that even when she has been lost to Lucas in a sense, their feelings and love for one another were real. So he doesn’t doubt that there was something between Eliott and himself. He’s not fully ready to acknowledge it but Lucas knows what happened that night in the library when they were kids was meaningful (if more to him than Eliott). It’s more that it’s the first time he’s able to truly put together why Eliott had behaved the way he did. Lucas was on the precipice of understanding as a child. You see that in the way he thinks about how Eliott’s behaviour reminds him of his mom. But he doesn’t fully put it all together. So he hears that Eliott is bipolar, hears the age they realized, and it’s like a final puzzle piece to him understanding that evening - why Eliott was so intense and then so out of control by the end, and more importantly, why Eliott was in no position to help Lucas. He doesn’t hugely mull it over - what it means in terms of their feelings in the moment as children - more just has a dawning awareness about what really happened that night. 

  * Why did you choose to have Eliott jealous of his bff, Idriss?



The basic answer if that it really highlights exactly how irrational the jealousy is… because there is truly no concern where Idriss is involved. Other reasons include: it makes for a hilarious side plot and many shenanigans, Idriss and Lucas must get along and be flirty in every universe (I don’t make the rules!) and there’s just no way Eliott would NOT get his hackles up about that lmao, and finally, it is an incredibly human thing to be jealous of someone you love when you see them behaving in a way you wish you could (i.e. being openly affectionate or flirty in this case with Lucas)… it just burns one’s ass a whole lot more when it’s your bestie who gets to flirt like crazy with the person you’re crushing on, most especially when you aren’t so sure you can behave the same (because it will mean something entirely different… something serious). 

  * What was Idriss thinking when he picked Eliott and Lucas up in Chapter 7 after everything that went down with Emily and Lucas' mum?



You only really get hints as to how Idriss is behaving through that scene. Initially he greets Lucas pretty normally and happily because he obviously doesn’t get that anything is going on. He would have of course picked up on the fact that Lucas was not well. The main thing to know about how Idriss was feeling is that he was both confused and worried. For Idriss it’s a whole different thing to see Lucas that upset and quiet. As you say, Idriss knows Lucas pretty differently. I mean, Idriss knows Lucas has his more serious and intuitive side, but Lucas makes a point not to be vulnerable around people. And it’s always that much more worrying to see someone you would regularly think of as pretty hard and tough, suddenly so soft and obviously broken down. So I imagine him initially trying to get a read on things and make a little small talk in the car, constantly glancing back into the rearview mirror at Eliott and Lucas. Eliott would have quieted him with a shake of the head and then concentrated on Lucas. I mention when they get to the garage that Eliott and Idriss are quietly speaking before Eliott comes back to Lucas. That wouldn’t have been a long conversation but the way I saw it, Idriss is basically asking Eliott if Lucas is ok. Eliott wouldn’t have said much - basically ‘I’m not sure’. Idriss would have asked if he could help and Eliott would have said he didn’t think so. Idriss doesn’t show it as obviously but he cares a lot about Lucas too. So that tiny moment with Eliott and Idriss would have ended with Idriss getting Eliott to promise he was going to take care of Lucas - one last concerned look Lucas’s direction, and then he left. 

I’d say that night in general would have revved up a bit of Idriss’s protective instincts for sure. It would have been really hard to see Lucas look so lost and broken. So if anything, that night would have cemented Lucas’s place as another person within Idriss’s fold - i.e. he was becoming more than friend, he was becoming family. 

  * What did Eliott think/feel about Lucas' vulnerability the day Emily was gone then found? When Lucas was shivering and snuggling up to him in the car? Also when Lucas cried in front of him for the first time?



So initially Eliott doesn’t call Lucas (i.e. when Eliott first gets the call from Emily - he doesn’t call Lucas until he has Emily). I did that for a few reasons that aren’t ever mentioned (they don’t really need to be mentioned in the story - I just needed to know as I wrote it). One reason is that Eliott needed to know Emily was safe and he had her before he called Lucas. The second is that Eliott really wanted to step up in that moment… sort of show Lucas he was capable and could help and just… be a good partner I guess you’d say. So when he initially talks to Lucas, he’s not really thinking Lucas is upset at all (he didn’t know Lucas had been out searching the night for her)… in fact I’d say he’s likely expecting Lucas to be more typically gruff with Emily - i.e. sort of like Lucas was in that first interaction with the cop, Eliott is expecting that Lucas will be super annoyed with her for running away. And again, during that confrontation with Emily and Lucas, Eliott would have been a little thrown to see Lucas not really defend himself at all, but Eliott was in major ‘I’m helping, be a good partner’ mode, and was really concentrating on stepping up (as he did). 

Even after that scene with Emily, Eliott was pretty relaxed. Like yes he was pissed about the circumstances (what his mom did) but it never occurred to him he wouldn’t be able to fix things. So he’s taking everything a lot more calmly than Lucas. He’s really in ‘I’ll be able to fix this and support Lucas and show how good I am for him’ mode. When they get outside and Lucas starts shaking and Eliott has that moment of realizing something is wrong… that’s when things change a little bit and Eliott starts feeling a little out of his depth. Eliott was prepared to deal with prickly, ‘this dumbass kid’ Lucas. He most definitely wasn’t expecting broken-down vulnerable Lucas. I mention that when they get in the car Eliott is fussing over making sure Lucas is warm, etc. He’s concentrating on tangible things he can do to help. And he’s very tentative initially when it comes to Lucas because he honestly doesn’t know what Lucas will accept… HE Lucas isn’t the sort of guy you would expect to show open vulnerability and be in need of cuddles in comfort. So it takes Eliott a minute but when he realizes Lucas isn’t pulling away, he’s sort of like ‘fuck it, he needs this’ and that’s when he really wraps Lucas up in his arms and goes into protective nurturer mode. 

You’ll note when they get back to Eliott’s room, Eliott is still to an extent expecting Lucas to come back to himself. He’s trying to lighten the situation - he explains that it’s just some crap his mom has pulled and it will be fine. He’s still not understanding the full gravity of the situation or exactly how destroyed Lucas currently is (and of course, he didn’t yet know what had happened with Lucas’s mom). Once again, HE Lucas is just not someone who really lets other people help, or even openly shows that he needs it (and that’s something Eliott understood from the very beginning of the story). Something both Lucas and Eliott have in common - and another way they are very good for one another - is that they are both capable of being the ‘stronger’ support system when needed (they both very much have nurturing instincts). So this is the first time Eliott truly gets to show that and be the solid support Lucas needs. When Lucas breaks down and starts crying, Eliott doesn’t fumble or flap about (he had his moment to do that in the car). He really steps up. He’s there with the physical support and then there with the emotional. He lets Lucas have his moment and then - knowing Lucas as well as he does - he provides the calming distraction needed. He references the Princess Bride. He knows that movie is more than just a memory to Lucas, it’s a calming and positive influence in his life - something he loves and that brings him joy. So Eliott distracts him, providing support in a medium that is familiar and comfortable for Lucas. Essentially, it’s a moment where you truly understand just how good for one another they are. They are both equally strong and capable people, but it’s when they come together that they’re allowed their moments of vulnerability and ‘weakness’ because the other will be there to hold them together. 

Eliott would have stayed up very late that night, making sure Lucas was comfortable and asleep. And he would have spent hours watching Lucas sleep before giving into it himself (it’s after that night he ends up drawing Lucas sleeping after all), thinking about how he could help and how he was going to fix things (it’s the first thing on his mind in the morning because he’d fallen asleep determined to make things right for Lucas). 

  * What do you "think" Lucas and Eliott are doing, right at this moment? (note: asked while the world is under quarantine due to the pandemic)



Well the Palace would have become like one huge quarantine spot for the shelter kids. That would have happened pretty early in the crisis and all of them would have been sheltering in place there for a while now. And while the Palace would definitely be a great place to be if you’re going to be stuck anywhere… keeping a bunch of kids who aren’t used to any sort of restrictions on their movements, secure and on Palace grounds would have gotten interesting. 

So Eliott and Manon see this as an opportunity to put structure in place… you know… help with schooling… implement proper schedules… blah blah blah never gonna work. Lucas knows it is chaos waiting to happen but he lets things play out until things are obviously reaching a boiling point… the kids don’t want the structure, everyone is stressed, no one wants ‘rules’… and of course, he suggests a water fight. We’re talking full-scale, no holds barred water fight… Emily of course fully supports Lucas in this idea… and faced with _both_ Lucas and Emily’s cute, begging faces? Eliott didn’t stand a hope in hell of saying no. 

So the morning was spent splitting into teams, talking strategies, going over off-limit areas (the library is a no-go zone!), getting supplies ready (thankfully there just so happens to be a great deal of condoms in supply at the Palace and they serve as an excellent substitute for actual water balloons)… the afternoon and what then became evening… was the water fight to end all other water fights. It’s now late evening in Paris and Lucas is currently trying to convince Eliott that cleanup can wait until tomorrow when they can get the kids to help. Eliott, who has never once left a mess to be cleaned up by someone else, never mind a mess to be cleaned up _later_ (the scandal!) is not easily convinced and pulled out the puppy dog eyes… maybe even threw in a little pout… until Lucas agrees to at least clean up a _little_ (Eliott has every intention of cleaning up everything but Lucas isn’t ready for those cold hard facts just yet). 

** Future Snippets:  **

** **

**_When Lucas decides to propose:_ **

When Lucas wakes, he’s just barely able to pry his eyes open and his whole body aches. They’d stayed up way too late last night. And everything about that sounds like it was for a fun, sexy reason but no… no fun sexy reasons to be found. Emily has a cold. From what Lucas can tell, it’s just that. The usual suspects. Fever, runny nose, congestion, and a whole lot of whining. She was going to be just fine. They could have tucked her into bed doped up on cold medicine and that would have been that. But try telling Lucas’s stupid, loving, mother-hen boyfriend that. Eliott had spent most of the night fussing. Running back and forth with cold compresses and glasses of orange juice, eyes frantic and worried. There was no stopping him and Lucas had known better than to try. It might have been the first time Emily had ever really had someone caring for her properly when sick. That is what Lucas had reasoned as he’d watched his boyfriend check her temperature for the twentieth time that night.

Lucas rolls over and his eyes slowly focus on Eliott’s sleeping form. He’s laying on his stomach and the entirety of his back is exposed, morning sunlight streaming through their window decorates it in orange shadows. Lucas moves a hand to gently spread over the expanse of his upper back, and traces a finger between the moles, across the soft skin, down over the slope of muscle, back up the line of his shoulder blade. Eliott snuffles slightly in his sleep, turning his head towards Lucas but his eyes remain closed. He’s warm and sleep soft, shuffling closer with another sniffle. They’re likely both going to get sick now. Lucas had said as much last night. He hadn’t even meant it entirely as a complaint – more just a statement of fact – but Eliott had turned to him with fierce eyes.

_“She’s ours, Lucas. She deserves the best care we can give her. The most love. I don’t care if we get sick.”_

Lucas hadn’t bothered to answer verbally. There was no winning there. And besides, Eliott was right. Instead he’d wrapped Eliott in a hug, rubbing his back firmly, before he’d turned to collect the rest of the supplies Eliott was insisting Em needed next to her for easy access.

His fingertips find their way to Eliott’s face and he gently glides them down until they trace the curve of Eliott’s lips. Once. Twice. He’s the most beautiful person Lucas has ever known. Eliott snuffles again, already sounding slightly congested, and his eyes begin blinking open, bleary and confused until they focus on Lucas. His forehead wrinkles.

“I think I’m getting sick.”

Lucas chuckles softly, hand moving to cup Eliott’s cheek. “Yeah. Probably.”

But Eliott doesn’t look terribly upset. He looks at Lucas for a moment more before a small smile appears on his face and his eyes slip shut once more with a soft, “Ok.”

And that’s when Lucas knows. He’s going to ask Eliott to marry him.

**_When they have kids:_ **

“Théo, Théo, _ssshhh_ ,” Lucas hushes, barely managing to quiet his own laughter, “not so loud or your dad will hear.”

“So?” Théo laughs, shoving at Lucas’s shoulders and going about repositioning his arms. He laughs when Lucas lets his arms go limp, refusing to hold the poses Théo places him in. “Papa! Stop!!!”

“What? I’m not doing anything?” Lucas grins, looking up into the gentle brown eyes of his little boy. Théo has somehow become a perfect mix of Lucas and Eliott despite no shared DNA. He’s as soft and gentle as Eliott, the first to go running to help when his little sister trips and skins a knee, but he’s got a mischievous spirit and eye for trouble that is all Lucas.

“Keep them like this,” Théo instructs, once more bending Lucas’s arms and posing them palm up, away from his body.

“Like this?” Lucas asks, crooking an eyebrow. “And then what?”

Théo huffs as though Lucas were the most frustrating human prop on the planet. The reaction is all Eliott. “Then I lie down like this,” he pats the palm of Lucas’s hands, “and you do push ups.”

“Théo push ups?”

“Yes! Me push ups!”

“Ok,” Lucas agrees, adopting a serious expression. “But we have to promise that when this goes wrong and we both end up injured, we don’t tell dad.”

Théo wrinkles his forehead, looking serious beyond his years. “But daddy always knows, papa.”

Lucas snorts. It’s true. Even before Lucas has the chance to confess whatever shenanigans he and Théo have gotten up to, Eliott somehow already knows. Lucas has suspicions he has spies in the house that come in the form of a brat who just happens to be home from university for summer break. Though, that broken vase had happened long before Emily was back under their roof and somehow Eliott still knew about it despite Lucas and Théo’s most excellent gluing skills. Then again… in the spirit of all Disney princes… he probably has birds and squirrels serving as informants.

“I guess we’re not allowed to get injured then,” Lucas suggests. “Deal?”

Théo nods, a grave expression on his face. “Deal.”

He starts giggling the moment he leans his body down onto Lucas’s hands, perpendicular to the length of Lucas’s body, a predictable downside to the fact that he is just as ticklish as Lucas. And it’s no surprise that contagious laughter plus perilous gymnastic maneuvers does not make for successful stunts. Théo curls his body with laughter the moment Lucas’s hand spreads across his stomach, and it makes balancing him next to impossible. One loud shriek and he thumps down onto Lucas’s stomach.

“Fuck,” Lucas wheezes, making sure to grab Théo so he doesn’t go flopping right off the bed.

“Papa!” Théo gasps, pressing up from Lucas’s chest, which doesn’t quite help the ‘trying to refill lungs with oxygen’ task at hand. “Daddy says we can’t say that word!”

“Yeah, well,” Lucas pouts, making sure to jut out his lip in a practiced expression Théo has come to call ‘papa’s begging face’, “daddy isn’t here.”

_“No?”_

Both Lucas and Théo gasp in matched shock at the sound of the voice at the bedroom door. And there, _of course_ , stands Eliott… beautiful and regal… and absolutely about to lecture them both.

“It was his idea!” Lucas yells, sitting up to clamp hands around the sides of Théo’s waist as he squeals with laughter. “You know I can’t say no to him. He’s your kid!”

“Papa!” Théo giggles, wriggling until Lucas allows him to collapse with his head resting against Lucas’s chest with a huff. “You’re stupid.”

“Théo,” Eliott admonishes gently, coming to stand just to the side of the end of the bed. “We don’t use that kind of language.”

Théo sits up, turning to pout at Eliott in a way that reminds Lucas entirely of himself. “But you tell papa he’s an idiot all the time!”

Lucas doesn’t quite manage to smother his snort of laughter and Eliott sends him an exasperated look. “I know, baby,” Eliott begins patiently, “but your papa and I mean that word in a very different way.”

Lucas smirks, quirking an eyebrow and mouthing ‘ _What way?_ ’ when he catches Eliott’s eye.

Théo’s forehead is wrinkled in concentration. “But how?” He asks.

“Just…” Eliott is clearly struggling to find words to explain himself. Lucas leans back with arms propped on the bed to appreciate the delightful sight of him trying. “We say it like… another way of saying I love you.”

And just like that Lucas wants to kiss him. He so badly wants to kiss him. Eliott’s eyes meet his and there’s the same yearning in his gaze.

“Me too!” Théo’s demanding voice immediately interrupts Lucas’s far too romantic musings. “I mean it too!”

Eliott shakes his head, chuckling softly. He looks to Lucas for backup but there’s not much Lucas can do but shrug, smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“So what were you two up to in here anyways?” Eliott asks, none-too-subtly changing the subject. The question serves its purpose however, and Théo is immediately distracted.

“Papa’s gonna do push ups with me!”

Eliott’s expression crinkles in confusion and his eyes flick to Lucas’s for explanation.

“ _Literally_ with him,” Lucas explains, leaning back onto the bed to demonstrate the push up motion with his arms. Théo nods eagerly beside him, looking back to Eliott for approval.

There’s a twinkle to Eliott’s eyes as he comes to understand their plan. “Ok,” he says, definite challenge in his voice, “let’s see then.”

“Really?” Théo and Lucas gasp in perfect unison.

“Really,” Eliott confirms, looking as though he’s one second from laughter.

Lucas meets Théo’s eye. “Ok buddy,” Lucas tips his chin down, looking at Théo seriously, “you ready to show that dad of yours what we’re all about?”

Théo’s face is all business and the sight of it nearly has Lucas cracking. He just barely manages to keep his expression neutral. “Ok, papa.”

This time around Théo lays himself across Lucas’s hands without even a hint of laughter, holding his body taught and still. He’s taking the task of showing off for Eliott so very seriously, Lucas can’t help but do the same, shifting his hands until he feels confident Théo is properly balanced and pushing up. Théo’s face immediately breaks into a smile the moment Lucas begins moving him, but he doesn’t break his pose, allowing Lucas to push him up once, twice, three times, over and over again.

In all honesty, it serves as a pretty effective workout. Lucas’s muscles burn. His biceps are unsurprisingly under a fair amount of strain, but his abs too are clenched with effort. He pulls his thighs slightly up towards his body as he tires, pushing Théo up one last time with a determined exhalation of breath, before he carefully brings him down again, letting Théo roll onto Lucas’s stomach and then off.

“Papa, you did it!” Théo crows, expression bright and joyous.

“Not bad, hunh?” Lucas smiles, sitting up and offering his hands up for a high-five which Théo gladly receives. “So,” Lucas looks up to where Eliott seems to have frozen while watching them, “what does our audience think?”

“Uh…” Eliott looks slightly shocked to be addressed and quickly clears his throat. “That was… yeah. Good. Really good.”

Lucas knows that look on Eliott’s face. He smirks. “Think so?” Lucas pulls his lower lip into his mouth, reaching down to scratch at his slightly exposed belly where his shirt had ridden up. Eliott’s eyes track the motion.

“Can we show Emmy?” Theo asks.

Eliott’s cheeks are far rosier than they had been moments prior and his eyes go quickly back to Théo. “Maybe later.” He rakes a hand back through his hair, eyes so obviously avoiding Lucas’s own. “Why don’t you go get your younger sister, and you and Julie head outside, ok, baby? Your cousin just got here.”

“Naima!” Théo shouts excitedly, quickly hopping off the bed. He reaches back for Lucas’s hand, dragging him up to a standing position. “C’mon, papa!”

Lucas chuckles and moves to follow before he’s stopped by Eliott’s firm hand on his chest. “No, you go ahead, Théo. Your papa and I will catch up. Tell your Uncle Idriss he’s to look after you guys, alright?”

Théo looks suspiciously between them both for a moment before he seems to realize any further questions will only delay his opportunity to play with Naima. “Ok!” He promptly turns and goes running out of the room, shouting as he goes. “JULIEEEEEEEEE, NAIMA IS HERE!!!”

Eliott gently closes the door behind him, turning back to face Lucas slowly.

“Why Princeling,” Lucas begins, tilting his head with a cheeky smile, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were planning on taking advantage of my weakened state.”

Eliott advances on him quickly, hands moving to Lucas’s waist, steps not slowing until he has Lucas pressed up against the wall next to Théo’s bed, breath warm against Lucas’s lips. “Do you have any idea how hot you are?”

Lucas expels a laugh that’s more air than anything else. His voice when it comes out is shakier than he would have expected. “My muscles get you going, Princeling. Think I don’t know that?”

“Not just that,” Eliott disagrees, eyes tracking across Lucas’s face. “You’re just…” One of his hand’s moves to cup Lucas’s face, thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “You’re just such a good dad.”

Heat spreads through Lucas’s chest at the pronouncement. “Yeah?” He smiles and knows his face is flushed with his happiness.

“Yeah,” Eliott confirms, eyes landing on Lucas’s lips. He brushes his thumb along the plump lower lip.

“And that does it for you, hunh?” Lucas teases.

A small smile pulls at Eliott’s mouth as his eyes meet Lucas’s. “You have no idea.”

He kisses Lucas as though it were their first time. It’s something Lucas will never tire of… the way Eliott kisses him. As though he’s been waiting years to do so. As though he may never have the opportunity to do so again. Lucas opens his mouth to meet the demand of Eliott’s, groaning happily as their tongues meet. Eliott’s hands move back into Lucas’s hair, gripping the strands tightly enough to have goosebumps rising across Lucas’s skin. He breaches the distance between their bodies, positioning a thigh between Lucas’s legs as he presses him back roughly into the wall. And Lucas is so on board with this plan. So entirely on board, just…

He pushes Eliott back enough to break their kiss. “Eliott,” Lucas attempts, but Eliott is not to be discouraged, his mouth moving down to Lucas’s neck, teeth scraping against the tendon he finds there. Lucas tries again, “You really gonna defile me in our son’s bedroom, Princeling?”

That gets Eliott’s attention. He raises his head, looking confused for a moment before he glances around them. His nose wrinkles with displeasure.

Lucas chuckles. “Our bedroom is across the hall. Think we can make it?” He’s only half joking.

Eliott’s face lights up with a mischievous smile. “No.” But he’s pulling Lucas towards the door with urgency anyways, wrenching it open and pausing to kiss Lucas at the threshold, pushing him back against the door jam.

“Bedroom. Bedroom,” Lucas repeats, and they breathe against one another’s lips.

“Bedroom,” Eliott agrees but makes no moves to disengage himself from Lucas’s body.

Lucas laughs, turning their bodies before shoving Eliott with some force until his back hits the closed door to their bedroom. Eliott laughs delighted, reaching for Lucas’s belt loop to drag him forward as he fumbles behind himself for the door handle.

“ _Hey!_ ” It’s Idriss’s voice calling from out-of-sight at the bottom of the stairs. They both freeze in immediate unspoken agreement that the less noise they make, the less likely they are to give themselves away and have the unthinkable happen… to be cock-blocked by Idriss. “ _I’m giving you assholes a half hour before I’m dragging you out of there. Half hour, you hear me? Better make it count!”_

Eliott grins, wrapping an arm around Lucas’s waist and pulling him close enough to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. Lucas’s entire body feels as though it’s glowing with his happiness and it’s a comfort to see the same radiance on Eliott’s face.

“Let’s make it count.”

❤️❤️❤️❤️

The IG post that inspired the kid snippet: 


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